The Path Not Taken
by JoaniexJony
Summary: A man's past helps define who he is, but with his memories gone what will John do? Shep whump, and plenty of angst for his team who are desperate to find him. Set in season 3 after Common Ground, and with my favourite doc Carson still around.
1. Chapter 1

A man's past helps define who he is, but with his memories gone what will John do? Shep whump, and plenty of angst for his friends who are desperate to find him. Set in season 3 after Common Ground, with my favourite doc Carson still around.

Warnings:- Some violence and a little bad language.

Disclaimer:- SGA isn't mine. C'mon! The show would still be on if it was up to me!

A big thank you to my wonderful beta **Sterenyk Strey, **for all her help and suggestions. (Of course all mistakes are mine.)

This is dedicated to my friend **Libero.** Happy birthday, and I hope you have a wonderful day tomorrow!

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 1

"You're going to need stitches in that."

"Wha…sorry?" John raised his head to look at the owner of the voice – Carson Beckett.

Carson stood back on his heels and narrowed his eyes. It was the concerned, suspicious expression John knew only too well. "I said…the gash on your arm is going to need stitches." Carson pressed the issue. "You zoned out on me for a moment, Colonel. Now, would you care to tell me if there's anything else I need to know, or will I have to keep you in for observation to search for any other problems?"

He was beat. All John wanted was to grab a sandwich then crash in the privacy of his quarters, but he quickly roused himself. Only too aware from past experience if he didn't come clean with his old friend, Carson would make good on his threat.

"Honestly, I'm just tired, Carson. I haven't slept since…hell I think it was Tuesday?" John rubbed his eyes, and blinked. "Once I catch some Zs, I'll be good to go in a few hours."

"No wonder you're exhausted, son, you've been up for nearly seventy two hours!" Carson tutted and shook his head slowly. The Scot then donned a pair of latex gloves and started to clean John's forearm with a sterile wipe.

"Marie…" Carson called the nurse who was passing by. "Could you set up a drip for Colonel Sheppard please." As Carson loaded up the syringe with local anaesthetic, he caught John's annoyed glare. It didn't faze him at all.

"This wound was almost dry, Colonel, and I don't need to run a battery of tests to tell me you're badly dehydrated." He stopped for a moment, and their eyes locked. "Look, John, just lay back and let the drip do its job – try to get some sleep if you can. Once the bag's empty, you'll be free to go to your quarters, but I don't want you back on duty for forty-eight hours."

He flinched as the needle pinched his arm. "No can do I'm afraid, Carson."

John was only too aware that Carson, as Chief Medical Officer, could ground him for as long as he wanted. So when the blue eyes narrowed, and the Scot opened his mouth to speak John straightened his shoulders, tried to make himself look like he wasn't as exhausted as he felt, and used his most persuasive tone.

"We have just over that, maybe less to get more than a thousand people to safety, after that Andulanan will become one big mass of molten lava. We're all tired, Carson. And yes, I'm the first to admit I need to get some rest, but we're overstretched as it is – I have to get back out there as soon as I can."

Carson stopped mid-stitch and his face was expressionless. Just when John thought he was going to have a fight on his hands, the Scot surprised him. "Aye, I suppose you're right, but I still don't want you back there until you've had a proper rest. You're off duty until twelve-hundred hours tomorrow. Take it or leave it."

A slow smile grew on John's face. "Deal, and remind me never to play poker with you, Carson."

Now it was Carson's turn to smile. "Not my game, Colonel. But if you ever want to pit your wits against me at Trivial Pursuit – you know where I am."

Carson picked up a pair of scissors and snipped off the end of the suture, then peeled off a self adhesive dressing and applied it to the two inch wound. He then smiled at Marie before taking the IV kit from her and deftly pushed the needle into the back of John's hand.

A quick check to make sure the fluid was flowing into the vein, and Carson ripped off his gloves. "There, all done." He nodded towards the bag, then back to John. "This shouldn't take too long, then I want you to get something to eat before you turn in." Carson was about to walk away but turned to give him a veiled look. "And, Colonel…no sneaking back to the planet before twelve-hundred hours tomorrow, or you and I _will_ have a falling out. Do we understand each other?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." John slid further down the bed, nestled his head into the pillow and closed his eyes. He cracked open one and saw the Scot still looking at him. "Thanks, Carson."

John dozed, but with all the noise in the busy ward, sleep proved elusive. His head was pounding, and he was sorely tempted to ask for some Tylenol, but in the end thought better of it. He didn't want to give Carson any excuse to up the ante, besides, he reckoned the headache was probably due to lack of sleep, something he was going to rectify shortly.

Food though was first on the agenda, and when John finally got released from the infirmary he was relieved to find the mess hall quiet.

As he picked up the tray, John caught sight of the white dressing on his arm and wondered how he'd managed to cut himself. It wasn't a serious injury, no more than a scratch really, but how and when did it happen?

He'd been doing everything from pilot to removal man during the last few days, including searching for a lost dog to calm a distraught child. Could it have happened while getting the reluctant mutt from under the bush? He didn't know, but it was small beans and didn't matter; it had been a crazy few days and they weren't finished yet.

John yawned, and when he heard a sound to his left turned round to find a line waiting for him to make up his mind. He hadn't even heard it forming, and felt the colour rise as he mumbled an apology to the pretty scientist behind him. Embarrassed, he quickly picked up a turkey sandwich and grabbed some OJ. It wasn't much, but was all he could face at the moment. At least it would keep the promise he'd made to Carson.

His legs felt like lead, so as none of his team were there, John headed for his quarters. He mentally opened the door, and started the shower to get it nice and hot while he slumped at the desk and picked at his meal. Ten minutes later, fed and clean once more, John felt almost human again as he slid between the sheets.

He was dog tired but as usual sleep didn't come at once. Images of the Andulanans, distraught at leaving their homes and everything they'd worked for, haunted him. He could empathise with their situation; it was the same old story wherever people had to re-locate. It many ways it was easier for those who didn't have much, as they had less to lose. For the wealthy, those who'd built up a good living, it was always a harder sell. Only one thing was certain. If they stayed behind, all the money in the world wouldn't bring the dead.

ooooOoooo

John couldn't say he was exactly refreshed when the alarm roused him from a deep sleep, but he felt less achy than before, and his headache was gone.

As he raked a hand through his tousled hair, John pulled the clock towards him for closer inspection. Even in the dim light he could see the small hand had just touched ten-hundred hours. He was mildly surprised he'd slept so long, but it was still too soon to leave the base or incur Carson's wrath.

Not that he was too worried, as the Scot's bark was worse than his bite, but the guy was not only his friend, he'd also saved his life on numerous occasions, so he wasn't going to challenge him - at least not unless he had to. If he was honest the hectic pace he'd been living for the last few years was starting to take its toll, so John decided to give himself a break for once and indulge in the luxury of taking a leisurely shower before heading for the mess.

When he'd first arrived on Atlantis, although John knew it could be a one-way ticket, he'd still felt optimistic about the future. Yet the fresh start had quickly soured after he'd been forced to kill his CO, propelling him into a position he hadn't signed up for. He took on the job – what else could he have done? But assuming the responsibility for the lives of not only the Atlantis expedition, but also the Athosian people, was then and still now a daunting task, especially in the early days.

Sumner's wizened face, his sad eyes pleading for release broke into his dreams, waking him drenched in sweat, his heart racing, too often for comfort. Deep down John knew he'd done the right thing - most of the time. At others the guilt stayed with him long after the nightmare had ended, leaving him troubled and sullen during the following day.

The hope for the future was still there, it had to be, because people were depending on him. He held on to it, looking for best, refusing to accept defeat even when sometimes death was staring him in the face. Even when that damned Wraith had stared at him, his eyes full of hunger before thrusting his hand onto his chest…

Despite what his father thought of him John wasn't a quitter, but even he wondered how long he could keep up the constant battle to keep his people alive in this galaxy. The Wraith, the Genii, the replicators and now Michael were all out there, and he'd already lost too many good men, not to mention civilians, during their endless struggles.

Now, it was Mother Nature entering the fray once again. It hadn't been long since his team nearly lost their lives saving the reluctant refugees from Taranian, but like déjà vu, just a few months later, a similar situation was about to happen in Andulanan.

At least on this occasion they'd been given more notice, and thanks to Elizabeth's powers of persuasion, their leaders had accepted the findings of the Atlantis geologists early enough for him to mount a proper evacuation.

John hoped for a better outcome this time, but sometimes the burden of command, the responsibility for saving yet more lives while keeping his own people safe, really got to him. He was tired. The last few hectic days had especially left him drained and lethargic. Still, shaved and dressed in fresh clothes made him feel better, so on a whim John decided to make a diversion into the gate room and invite Elizabeth for an early lunch.

ooooOoooo

The blue reflection of the event horizon glinted off the marble floor, heralding the return of yet another rescue party. Even before John got a good look to see who it was, he could see their exhaustion in the slump of their shoulders. He nodded, and waved away the salute they were about to give as he watched them wander, weary eyed, towards the infirmary for their post mission medical.

He was proud of them. They were a fine bunch of dedicated men and women who risked their lives on a daily basis, with little downtime, and even fewer vacations. The civilian staff also impressed him with their bravery and commitment. John was pretty sure none of them had expected to face the dangers they'd met in Pegasus, but people who had rarely before ventured out of their labs, were even now standing alongside their military colleagues to help the fleeing refugees.

Their camaraderie was uplifting to watch, and not for the first time John realised what a lucky man he was to have such people under his protection. It was a privilege, and regardless of how he felt sometimes, it was a job he would continue doing for as long as he had a breath left in his body.

He started up the stairs towards Elizabeth's office and saw Rodney and Zelenka coming towards him.

Suddenly, Rodney looked up from the data pad he was holding, and stopped dead in his tracks. Unprepared, Radek nearly crashed into the back of the scientist but made a good recovery by dodging to one side. He made a face behind Rodney's back which made John quickly suppress a laugh, before Radek went to continue his journey.

"Good morning, Colonel."

"Hi, Radek – you okay?" John barely got the words out before he was interrupted.

"Him? He's fine - better than you by the looks of it." Rodney blurted, staring at his white dressing. "What happened to your arm?"

John let out a long sigh. "It's only a scratch -"

"Yeah, _right._" Rodney rolled his eyes. "Beckett doesn't put stitches in a scratch, Sheppard."

John shrugged and tugged at his sleeve, wishing he hadn't pulled it up so tight. "Anyway…how's the search going? Have you found a new home for these folks yet?"

Rodney waved his free hand from side to side. "Maybe." He glanced back at the screen in his hand, and then back to John. "There's a couple of possibles, but MX9 1472 is looking like the best fit. There's good breathable atmosphere, and a wide expanse of arable land for the farmers, but we haven't had time to send out a MALP yet. At any rate, Elizabeth has still to run it by the First Minister before any decision is made."

"Sounds promising, good job, Rodney." John nodded, and slapped his team mate on the back. "The sooner we get these folks relocated the better. It's getting pretty tight in the alpha site and if we don't get them moving soon, overcrowing is going to become a problem."

The scientist raised his eyebrow, and gave a surreptitious nod towards the dark curly hair bent over the laptop in the office he'd just left.

"Elizabeth has been up all night trying to work out how to eke out our supplies to support these people. We didn't have much to spare in the first place - we're practically starving as it is." Rodney rubbed his slightly rounded stomach, and John tried not to smile. The smile died on his lips when he saw his friend looking worried. "Try and get her to take a break will you?"

If John was surprised at Rodney's concern, he didn't show it. That was the thing about McKay, the guy was a real enigma. On the one hand he could be an arrogant, conceited pain in the ass who moaned constantly, but he was also brave and had put his life on the line for Atlantis many times – as he would tell anyone prepared to listen. But smug or not, Rodney had a compassionate streak as big as his intellect. Still, John knew if he called him out on it, neither of them would enjoy appreciate the conversation.

John studied the face pouring over the data pad. The dark circles made Rodney's pale complex look even whiter than usual. "How are you holding up, Rodney?"

McKay's tired blue eyes sprang open. "Me? I'm exhausted. My hypoglycaemia is starting to act up because I haven't had time to eat, and I look like the waking dead. Apart from that I'm just, what is you say? Oh yeah - peachy!"

"Well scoot – go - get something to eat. Consider it an order." John told him, and stood aside to wave him down the stairs. "We can't have our resident genius laid up in the infirmary."

Rodney gave him a suspicious look but John managed to keep a straight face. He was concerned about his friend, but almost from the moment they'd arrived in Atlantis, the scientist was always adding to the list of ways he could die. His friend's hypochondria aside, John was only too aware that in this particular regard, his condition was genuine.

"Fine." Rodney huffed, still wearing a doubtful expression. "Will I keep you a seat?"

John nodded as he went to move past him. "Make that two. Hook or by crook, I'm going to prise Elizabeth from that desk."

ooooOoooo

Despite everything going on in the 'gate room Elizabeth was startled when she heard a knock on the glass door. She looked up to find John Sheppard standing in the entrance.

"John! I'm so sorry." She blurted, feeling the colour rise in her cheeks. "I should have visited you in the infirmary – Carson told me you'd been hurt."

John cringed, and looked uncomfortable as he hastily covered the wound with his other hand. "Like I told Rodney, it's no biggie, just a scratch. It wasn't as if I was kept in overnight."

She sighed, while running a careless hand through the limp curls that were sticking to her face. "Still, I should have at least checked up on you."

"From what I hear you've had your hands pretty full trying to feed the five thousand." John smiled.

Elizabeth put down her pen, and leaned back on the chair. "It's three thousand, seven hundred and ninety two – not counting the expedition members." She returned his smile, with a wry one of her own.

John let out a low whistle. "That many, huh?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to ignore the mounting headache that had started the night before.

"Well, we can just about manage for another few days, but any more is going to be a problem." She sighed, but tried to remain positive and give her military commander some good news. "At least the Samaures have agreed to take some people in temporarily, and the Ralaamens have generously offered to send some of their harvest to help boost our resources. It's just as well for us they had a bumper crop this year."

John came over and perched on the edge of her desk. "From what McKay tells me, it shouldn't be long before we can get these folks relocated. That at least should be cause for celebration, so take a break and join me for an early lunch."

Even tired, John Sheppard still exuded a boyish charm that Elizabeth found hard to resist, but she had built up immunity when necessary. "Thanks, John, but I really don't have the time."

John bent towards her and whispered. "I'll set Carson on you…"

She sat up straight and stared. "Did he put you up to this?"

"No. But you look beat, Elizabeth." The smile faded, and John's expression became concerned. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure Atlantis won't fall apart in the few hours it will take for you to grab a bite to eat, and take a nap."

Their eyes locked, and Elizabeth was ready to object when she realised John was right. Her irritation melted away, and she smiled. "That line sounds familiar. Haven't I used that on you?"

"Funny…I thought I'd heard it somewhere before." John grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he extended a hand to haul her to her feet. "C'mon. What's say we get to the mess before Rodney snags the last blueberry muffin."

"He'd better not…" Once on her feet, Elizabeth let go of his hand, but didn't move away.

"John…you don't have to go back to the planet. Lorne is more than capable of finishing up the evacuation." When he opened his mouth to speak, she interrupted. "Even with some rest, you still look exhausted. Look. I know it's been a rough few years for all of us, but its you that's taken the brunt of it. I'm just worried it all hasn't been too much."

The smile vanished from his face, and John's expression hardened. "Exactly what are you saying - I'm no longer fit to do my job?"

"Oh, no – not at all!" Elizabeth blurted out, as she realised John had taken her concern the wrong way.

"I don't know what I…Atlantis, would do without you. And for the record, I do _not_ want to work with Caldwell or anyone else." She hastily reassured him."It's just that for the last few months…ever since your abduction, you've looked strained. I'm concerned about you, John. Atlantis needs you fit and well, so maybe when this is all over you should take a time out…or even a vacation to recharge those batteries."

John's hand automatically went to rub his chest, and Elizabeth cringed, immediately regretting raking up the painful memory of the Wraith feeding.

For a moment he went quiet and looked away while chewing his bottom lip, before turning back to face her. "Huh…and I thought I came out of that looking younger."

He tried to smile, but his lame attempt at humour didn't fool either of them.

"Honestly, Elizabeth, I won't deny I'm tired, but so is everyone else on the base. Tell you what…when this mission is done, I'll go over to the mainland and visit Halling for a few days. The weathers getting warmer so I could catch some rays and I'll even take my board...it looks like there could be some decent waves on the north shore."

A couple of days weren't what she'd had in mind, but John Sheppard wasn't a man who could be railroaded into anything, so she remained silent…for now.

"I'll hold you to that, Colonel – now how about that brunch?"

ooooOoooo

TBC

Hope you enjoyed the start, and of course there is a more to come!

And please review. I love to know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much for all the reviews - you guys really rock!

Now on with the story...John was already pretty beat in the first chapter, so what's going to happen now?

THE PATH NOT TAKEN.

CHAPTER 2.

John sprinted out the jumper and jogged over to where a weary looking Lorne was talking to sgt Mason. The sergeant nodded to Lorne then saluted them both, before quickly walking away.

Lorne was visibly exhausted. The dark shadows under his eyes made his usually healthy complexion look pale, and his shoulders were drooping under his dusty uniform.

"You look beat, Major." John told him. "Give me a sit rep, then return to base for some shut eye."

"No disrespect, Sir, but I don't like to leave while there's still all these people to evacuate." Lorne sounded worried, as his eyes raked the large line of people still waiting for a ride to safety, and then upwards to the heavens.

John followed his gaze and saw the darkening sky. When he'd left the planet yesterday, there had only been a sight haze muting the pale blue sky, but today was a different story. Dense ash clouds had nearly obliterated the sun, and a faint rancid smell of sulphur was tainting the air, making it musty. It was also hot, and he could already feel his feet getting uncomfortably warm even through the thick soles of his boots.

From all the signs, it was pretty clear Mother Nature had upped the ante since he'd last been there. He was no geologist, but from what John remembered from Taranus, it looked like their twenty-four hour window had been reduced to twelve, or maybe even less. One thing was certain, it would take more than the three waiting jumpers to evacuate the growing line of anxious people.

"You're dead on your feet, Major, so the order stands." John pressed the issue, but kept his tone light to take the sting out the command. "When you get back to Atlantis, tell Dr Weir I need an extra couple of jumpers out here, stat."

John took another glance upwards and frowned. "Hopefully, with the extra push we should be able to get everyone out before we lose the light."

Lorne hesitated for a moment, as if he was going to object but then nodded. "Yes, Colonel."

John was watching his XO enter the next transport back to Atlantis, when he saw Teyla hurry towards him. Tendrils of damp hair that had escaped her ponytail were sticking to her flushed face, and as John could see she was concerned about something, he didn't even bother with the pleasantries. "What's up, Teyla?"

"We have a problem. The First Minister's father is refusing to leave his farm…and he has forbidden to allow any of his workers to go either." Her cultured voice was edgy with frustration as Teyla stood with one hand on her hip, while the other pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I have tried reasoning with him. Doctor Samuels, the geologist in charge has tried too. The old man refuses to listen to anyone – not even his son."

Teyla looked at him apologetically. "I am sorry, John, but the First Minister has asked if you would come and speak to him."

John inwardly groaned. With so much else to deal with, this was one complication he didn't need. "Sure, of course I will. But if he won't listen to you guys, what makes you think he'll listen to me?"

Teyla shrugged, her tired face more strained than usual. "The minister is convinced that the word of the military leader might have more clout. Apparently his father used to be a major in the army before he was invalided out and took up farming."

At that moment, the ground started to tremble and cries of terror came from the line. John instinctively reached to steady Teyla, and held her until the tremors stopped.

It was over, almost as soon as it had started, but the terrifying turn of events had left everyone shaken. Frightened women were holding onto their sobbing children so close, John was worried the kids might suffocate. Others, mainly men, began arguing. They were pushing and jostling people who only yesterday would have been neighbours or friends, just to get further up the line. When panic took hold liked this, John knew things could turn nasty real quick. He was relieved to see his men were on top of the situation, but a quick glance at his watch told him if they didn't hurry, they wouldn't get everyone out in time.

"How far away is this place, and how many people are we talking about?" John realised he was still holding onto Teyla's arm, and released it immediately.

"The farm is located near a small coppiced wood, about five miles from here. I understand there are about seven workers as well as the First Minister and his father." Teyla told him.

"Right, let's do this." John led the way over to his recently vacated jumper. In the short time since he'd arrived it had already been filled with a handful of refugees, and with the extra people he was going to collect, he knew it was going to be a tight squeeze – but what choice did he have? Lt Morris was at the controls and when John walked in, the pilot immediately rose to give John his seat.

John smiled at the worried people as he walked in, and waved the pilot back down. "Thanks, Lieutenant, but this is your ride. Although I would appreciate if we could make a short detour before we take these folks to the alpha site."

"Sir?" The fair-haired young man looked puzzled.

John sat down in the co-pilots chair and buckled up. He nodded over his shoulder to his team mate, who had taken the seat behind him. "We're heading to a farm about five miles from here - Teyla will give you directions."

The young man sat up a little straighter. "Yes, Sir!"

Morris was new, having only arrived in Atlantis a couple of weeks ago, and it was obvious his presence was making him nervous.

John suppressed a smile and wondered if he'd ever been that in awe of any commander, but didn't think so. It was obvious the new recruit was trying to impress him, so he tore his eyes away from the controls, and fixed them on the way ahead, even if it nearly killed him to do it. Fact was, he couldn't help himself. Despite declining to take the controls, every fibre of his being was desperate to take over. It was always the same when it came to flying and John conceded, at least privately, he was the worst kind of backseat driver.

When he'd first started flying, there was no way he would've given up his ride to anyone, but he was a commander now, so his priorities had changed accordingly. The Pegasus galaxy was a dangerous place, and the young men under his command needed to gain experience if they were to handle themselves against the Wraith – amongst others. Still, John couldn't deny it was taking all of his self control to keep his itchy fingers in check.

"It is in this area." Teyla stood up and leaned on the back of John's chair. She peered through the viewfinder at the landscape flying past. "There it is. It is the house with the thatched roof just past that small outcrop of trees on the left."

Morris glanced over at John, looking for instructions. John folded his arms and nodded. "You heard the lady, Lieutenant. Take her down."

"Yes, Sir."

John cringed at the third 'Yes, Sir' in a row. He knew he was being unfair, as the young pilot was only showing his respect, but it still made him feel really, really old.

Morris landed the craft gently in a small clearing about a hundred yards away from the building. "Good, job, Lieutenant." John unbuckled his belt and got to his feet. "Now I'd like you to wait with these people, while I go inside."

When the young man went to open his mouth to speak, John forestalled him. A fourth '_Yes_, _Sir'_, was more than he could stand. "There's no need for formalities, Morris, we're just two men on a rescue mission today."

Morris beamed, making the fresh-faced pilot look even younger. John wondered what age he was - eighteen? Nineteen? He wondered if he'd ever looked that young.

The dark-haired kid who'd left home over twenty years ago was no longer in evidence, and sometimes John didn't recognise the middle aged man staring out at him in the mirror. The dark hair was gradually giving way to grey at the temples, and he sure as hell didn't have the same energy any more. Still, as long as he could fly, nothing would make him give up his command.

The First Minister was waiting at the door, and extended a hand in greeting. "I can't thank you enough for coming, Colonel." The tall, middle aged man led him and Teyla inside. "My father has always been a stubborn man. Worse since my mother passed away last year. That's part of the problem you see – he refuses to leave her behind."

"I understand." John responded, and he did. When his own mom died he hadn't wanted to leave her grave and to avoid a scene, his dad had let him be until everyone went home. It was turning dark when his father returned and forcibly dragged him away. He'd kicked and screamed, but dad had just ignored him as he'd lifted him up and put him in the car. John hated him for that - hated the world for taking away the only person who'd truly loved him. He'd only been a kid at the time, and looking back, he realised he hadn't given his dad a choice. Nevertheless, it had taken him a lot of years, too many, to forgive him.

An hour later, John was starting to sympathise with his dad's position. Admittedly he wasn't a diplomat, but he reckoned that even Elizabeth would have trouble dealing with the awkward man. The crinkled blue eyes sparkled with mischief as the elderly farmer shot down everything John proposed. Not that he was nasty, in fact the old guy was quite a character, but all he wanted to do was reminisce about his glory days when he was in charge of an infantry unit.

The trouble was John didn't have time for the prolonged verbal sparring. Since they'd arrived three more tremors had shaken the house each more powerful than the last, and it was clear the situation was becoming critical. He decided to try one more approach. "Sir, from what you've told me it sounds as if you were a force to reckon with. How many men were in your unit?"

"Twelve…and a fine compliment of men they were." The wrinkled face broke into a misty smile.

John nodded. "And I'm sure you all must have shared a strong bond." He smiled over to Teyla. "I have a tight unit too – I'd give my life for any one of them."

"As would I have, if it had been necessary." The elderly man responded, almost indignantly.

John sat back, folded his arms and expressionless, he locked eyes with the farmer. "I can believe that, which is why I'm surprised you're refusing to let your workers leave."

The wrinkled face became scarlet, as the old man sat glaring at John.

John decided to press home his advantage while he could. "Look, I can tell you're a good man, and I understand your reasons for not leaving, but the people who work for you have families and the rest of their lives ahead of them. I'm sure you wouldn't want them to come to any harm."

"They won't. I'll take care of them. I always have." The old man blurted, stuttering with anger.

His son came over and put his hand on the old gnarled shoulders. "Father, I know you don't believe us, but if you won't listen to our words, then at least acknowledge what is going on around you. The tremors are becoming more frequent and soon… you will have no home left. The planet is dying – please, I don't want you to die along with it."

After a moments silence the farmer looked at John, the fight in his eyes replaced with sadness. "I have been a selfish old man, Colonel, but no more. I would be grateful if you would escort my workers to a place of safety. However," he glanced over at his son. "I will not be coming with you."

"But, father!"

"I was born, raised, and married your mother on this land." He smiled at his son with affection. "You came into the world here too, and if I haven't said so before, I am proud of everything you have achieved. You are a fine leader, Tarlind." The wrinkled hand grasped the hand on his shoulder, and squeezed it. "I am old, my life is coming to an end and I don't want to start again in a strange land. I want to die in my home, so please – respect my wishes."

The house started shaking and the fierce tremor brought ornaments crashing to floor, as dust from the ceiling coated their clothes and hair alike. John couldn't afford to wait any longer and while the two men continued to argue, he went over to his team mate. "Teyla, I want you to gather the workers and escort them out to the jumper. I'm going to wait for the First Minister, but if I'm not out in five minutes – leave without me."

"No – I am not leaving you behind." Teyla's eyes flashed with anger.

By asking her to comprise her principles, John realised he'd offended his team mate. Unfortunately the two men were still deep in conversation, and with the worsening conditions, he couldn't risk the lives of the people in the jumper, or the farm workers any longer.

He raked an impatient hand through his hair, and was surprised when it came away covered with soot. "Hey… I'm not crazy about the idea either, and for the record, I don't intend to hang around any longer than I have to."

Teyla was still staring at him. Her jaw was set, and John knew he would have to do a better job if he was to convince her to leave.

The Athosian was unlike anyone else under his command. Ronon and McKay were both determined men in different ways, but Teyla beat them hands down when she set her mind to it. She could be as stubborn as the old farmer sitting across the room, only obeying orders when she felt they were the right thing to do. John admired her for it, he felt the same way. Except right now, he needed her to do what he asked.

"You are _not_ leaving me behind, Teyla." He reasoned, but when her expression didn't alter he continued. "Look, it's the same for me as the people back in that line. The jumper is going to be packed once you get the workers inside. All I'm asking is for you to get them to safety, and by the time you come back I'll be outside waiting with the First Minister."

John could tell she was wavering, as a conflicted expression flashed across her face. He mentally crossed his fingers.

Teyla gave her ponytail a sharp tug, but the uncertainty was still in her hazel eyes. "Fine, I shall do what you ask, but make sure you are ready to leave when we return."

"Are you kidding me?" John smirked, incredulous, "I don't want to hang around in this hell hole any longer than I have to!"

She didn't return his smile, but held his gaze for a moment longer before walking away. John watched her go, but waited until she was out of sight before letting out a long sigh.

ooooOoooo

Several minutes had passed since the jumper left and John was getting antsy, as the two men were no closer to resolving the situation. He went over to the window, lifted the worn curtains and peered outside. It was black as night, although it only just past midday. He sympathised with the First Minister's position, but it was time to intercede. When the jumper arrived, regardless of the old man's decision; they were both going on it.

Suddenly as John turned to get his attention he heard a familiar noise, and it wasn't the sound of the jumper returning.

"Quiet!"

The two men immediately stopped talking and stared at him, confused, as John put a finger to his lips. He strode over. "I'm sorry…but I need you to listen to me carefully."

This day had already started out badly and now it was going downhill fast. When he went to speak his voice came out rough, as he couldn't get any moisture in his throat. "The Wraith are here – I heard a dart overhead a few minutes ago." For a moment no one spoke, the fear in the room palpable.

The two men followed as he went back to look out the window. He strained to see in the dark, but thought he saw movement in the distance.

"If the Wraith have engaged the Stargate, no one can come back to get us." He explained, and watched them nod in understanding. He turned to the old farmer. "Sir, if you want to stay I'll respect your wishes, but if we have any chance of getting out this house alive, your son and I must leave now."

"I'm coming with you." The old man winced as he stood up a little straighter. John was surprised at the sudden change of heart, and quickly realised the old man had seen his reaction.

"Being taken into the earth of my own planet is one thing," The farmer explained, "but I don't wish to die at the hands of those devils."

John simply nodded, and holding his P90 close to his chest he took the six, leading the men outside.

The air was thick with ash falling down like rain, and John could hardly see a damn thing. He knew the 'gate was only about five miles away. That was an easy jog to someone like him, perhaps a little more effort for the First Minister, but it was going to seem like a marathon for the elderly man. Still it was his job to get them there, hopefully in one piece, so John motioned for the men to follow him into the nearby forest.

It didn't take long before his worst fears were realised. Two Wraith, one of them wearing the familiar bone mask, were making their way towards the house. John didn't think they'd made their position, but he had to get the two men moving as quickly as they could.

He looked through his binoculars, wishing they were equipped for night vision, but couldn't see any other hostiles. John knew only too well, that not having sight of them didn't mean they weren't there.

The sound of a branch snapping made him instantly alert, and John put up his hand for his party to stop. He waved for them to crouch down, then took out his spare side arm and gave it the statesman. "Do you know how to use one of these?"

"If he doesn't, I'll figure it out." The old man smiled.

John nodded. "Good. Now here's what's going to happen. I'm going to lead that sucker away so you can continue towards the 'gate."

The men looked horrified, so John put his game face on, pretending a confidence he didn't feel. "It'll be fine. With luck, I'll make up the ground and be there before you." His smile faded as his expression grew serious. "Either way, you need to keep quiet, and stay low. When you get there if I haven't made it back, these are the co-ordinates for the Alpha site." John scribbled the symbols on a piece of paper and handed it to them.

The First Minster took it, his eyes filled with remorse. "Good luck, Colonel and…well, I'm sorry. We both are, it's our fault for putting you in this position."

"My son is correct, Colonel Sheppard. If I hadn't been such an obstinate fool, this wouldn't have happened."

John privately agreed, but what was done, was done - water under the bridge. Besides, no one had bargained on a visit from the Wraith. He didn't answer, because what more was there to say? John simply nodded and made his way quietly toward the direction he'd heard the noise.

A drone was there, but hadn't heard him coming so John picked up a nearby pebble and threw in the opposite direction from where the men were heading. It had the desired effect as bone head stopped, and started to look around, but then to John's dismay he continued back along the same path, the direction that would soon lead him to the two men.

He cursed his luck, and wished that just once things would go the right way. John wondered what he's done so bad to piss the powers that be off, then remembered it had been him who'd awoke the Wraith. Now he had a guilt trip, just when he needed to stay focused – way to go, John.

John could just about make out the two men from his position, and knew if he could see them, so could the drone. He was running out of options and needed to act fast. Plan 'A' had bombed, so all he was left with was 'Plan B', and it really sucked.

He scanned the area to make sure it was just the one Wraith he was dealing with, and then picked up another pebble and threw it straight at the monster.

"Hi! Don't suppose you'd like to give up without a fight? No? I didn't think so." John didn't want to fire his weapon this close to the house, as the other Wraith would hear him. He turned and started running in the opposite direction, making bone head follow him.

He heard the stunner, and could feel the residual blast as it barely missed his arm, but he only looked around to make sure the drone was still on his tail. He was, so John kept up the pace, running as far from the two men's position as he could.

It was hot, hotter than hell, and the sweat was nearly blinding him as it ran down his face. The muggy atmosphere was making it hard to breathe, and John knew he couldn't keep this relentless pace for long.

The ground shook, just as the blaster fired throwing John to the ground. His right side was numb, but as the Wraith made its way towards him John reached for his side arm with his left hand. He didn't know how long he'd been playing the dangerous game of cat and mouse, but hoped it had been long enough to have given the two men a decent head start, because when he fired, the game would be up.

He lay still allowing the monster to crouch down over his body, and when the Wraith pulled off his tags – John fired.

The Wraith jerked back, momentarily stunned, then side swiped John's head with the back of his hand. Pain exploded in his skull as his head slammed against the dried earth. John's head was spinning, and he could barely see through the sparks of light flashing in his eyes, but with grim determination he kept his finger on the trigger and kept firing.

It was a battle for survival as the bullets seemed to have no effect, and the Wraith continued to batter John's head again, and again, against the ground. Then suddenly the monster went still, its white hair falling over the mask before falling backwards onto the forest floor.

For a moment he just lay there, glad to be alive but when John raised his head the world started spinning, and he couldn't hold back the nausea.

He rolled onto his side spilling his guts, his stomach aching before the dry heaves eventually stopped. This was so not good. He was hurting – bad, and panic threatened to engulf him when he realised he couldn't see out his right eye. The rational side of his brain told him that concussions could cause temporary blindness, and his was a doozy. His heart was racing and he could barely focus, but at least the numbness was starting to wear off, and John knew he had to get moving to give both himself and the two men a chance.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet. John stumbled over the lifeless Wraith and would have fallen but for a nearby tree. His P90 was lying only feet from where he'd fallen, but it took more effort than he would have liked before it was back in his hand. The power was gradually coming back to his right side, but his grip on the gun felt tenuous. Either way John staggered on, hoping he was moving in the same direction of the 'gate praying he would reach it, before the Wraith back at the house had a chance to make up the ground.

Each step was arduous, the sheer effort it took to put one foot in front of the other an ordeal, as John struggled to focus on the way ahead.

His head was bursting, the constant pounding keeping time with the beat of his heart. And the sickness wouldn't let up, forcing him onto his knees wasting precious time when there wasn't even anything left to expel.

John didn't know how far he'd travelled, but at the sound of the event horizon bursting into life, he was relieved to know he was going in the right direction. He'd made it, which was good. Question was, where was the First Minister and his father? Plus, was someone dialling out, or in?

Cautiously, John made his way towards the tree line. He could barely see but put a shaking hand up against his bad eye, and tried to focus with his left. The 'gate was indeed straight ahead, and beside it two blurred figures. It was the First Minister and his dad. They were waving and calling his name.

A slow smile grew on his lips, the relief letting go of the weight he didn't know he'd been carrying. John started to move towards them when a sound made him stop dead. His heart sank when he saw the damn drone wasn't dead. It was coming towards him, closing fast, and John knew he wouldn't have time to make it to the 'gate in time.

"Go! I'll follow behind you." He shouted to the waiting men. John couldn't see their faces, but felt, rather than saw their uncertainty.

He fired. Again and again, the P90 spitting bullets making the drone judder, but only slightly slowing its progress. When the monster fell, John found himself shaking. Suddenly the gun was too heavy falling to the ground from his trembling fingers, and the little vision he had left was starting to dim as the darkness started to close in.

John knew he was close to passing out, and stumbled, staggering over his clumsy feet towards the DHD. A tremor pushed him forward, and he put his arms out trying desperately to keep his balance, only too aware if he landed on the ground, he might never get up again.

The tremor had also awoken the drone. It was dying, but in its death knell the beast activated his self destruct. Oblivious to the danger and barely able to see, John reached for the last symbol on the DHD when he felt a sharp pain pierce through his leg. Then the world turned black as he was blown off his feet, and hurled through the horizon…

ooooOoooo

TBC

Hope you enjoyed that - and please review!


	3. Chapter 3

You guy's are amazing! I can't thank you enough for all the reviews - they really give me encouragement to keep the edits coming. Thanks too for all of the alerts and those of you following this story.

I left you on a cliffy, so what's happened to John?

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER THREE

"Off world activation. It's Major Lorne's IDC."

At Chuck's hail, Elizabeth and Teyla broke off their conversation and turned to watch the man in question walk through the 'gate followed closely by Ronon. Their expressions were grim.

When Lorne saw her standing on the balcony he nodded, and the two men started towards the stairs. They were filthy. Their faces were barely recognisable under the grime, and ash flew off Ronon's dreads leaving a dusty trail, as he took the steps two at a time.

Teyla had been perched at the edge of the desk, but jumped up as soon as they entered the small office. "Where is John?"

"Gone!" Ronon spat out, his voice filled with rage. "Those cowards left him to die on the planet."

Teyla's face fell, but Elizabeth tried to remain calm. "Major, from Ronon's _comment_, I take it you found the First Minister alive and well?"

Lorne nodded, spilling more ash onto the floor in the process. "Yes, Doctor Weir. We found both the minster and his father waiting by the 'gate at the Alpha site. He was waiting for Colonel Sheppard."

"Oh?" Elizabeth leant back against the desk and folded her arms. She sensed there was a lot more to this story.

"When the Wraith arrived, the colonel escorted them out of the house intending to take them to the 'gate by foot." Lorne continued. "The minister told me they had been making good progress, when colonel Sheppard spotted a Wraith heading their way."

"Let me guess…" Rodney interrupted in a cynical tone. He was standing in the doorway shaking his head. "Sheppard acted as decoy again – didn't he?" At Lorne's shrug, Rodney rolled his eyes. "Duh…of _course_ he did! Colonel Courageous just can't help himself and for what? To save a jumped-up despot, and an old man who didn't have the sense to get out the way of a freaking volcano!"

"Rodney! That is hardly fair." Elizabeth voice rose slightly, but she softened her tone knowing his outburst was down to worry. "Minister Tarlind is a good man, and I am sure he never intended this to happen." She sighed and turned back to Lorne. "Major…when did the minister last see him?"

"About an hour ago. Colonel Sheppard had given them the co-ordinates to the alpha site just in case he didn't make it in time. The minister said they'd just dialled out when they saw him coming towards them…then they saw the Wraith behind him. He told me that Colonel Sheppard shouted for them to go on ahead and he would follow behind, but he never arrived." Lorne said sadly.

"So John was alive? Teyla's face brightened slightly.

"According to the minister he was pretty beat up, but yeah, he was still on his feet." Lorne added, sounding a little more upbeat.

Rodney pushed further into the room and confronted Lorne "Well - what are we waiting for? Let's get back there!"

"Don't you think we looked?" Ronon's face twisted with anger, as he rounded on his team mate. "Everything was gone. There was nothing of the planet left – nothing! Sheppard was gone. There was no sign of him anywhere…"

Ronon's rage suddenly evaporated. It was replaced by a look of frustration, as he turned his back on the group and stared out the window onto the 'gate room below.

"The landscape was almost obliterated by lava when we got through. The 'gate and the DHD was pretty much all there was left, but then it started to collapse…We barely got out alive, Doctor McKay." Lorne finished in a tired voice.

The air was thick with tension as an uneasy silence descended in the room. No one wanted to say it, and Elizabeth didn't want to believe the unthinkable – that John was dead.

They'd been through so much since coming to the city, and just when they were starting to make some real progress, it wouldn't be right for him to die, especially not like this. Yet how could he have survived? The planet was gone, covered in molten lava. It was unrealistic to believe otherwise.

"Did I hear you right? There was only one Wraith on his tail?" Rodney looked to Lorne for confirmation. The major nodded. "Then Sheppard's not dead. C'mon, this is the man who survived a Wraith feeling looking younger than ever." Rodney's eyes glittered as he grabbed his tablet closer to his chest. "He's alive – I know it."

"McKay's right." Ronon grunted, then barged past everyone, storming out the room.

Teyla went to stand by Rodney, put a hand on his shoulder, and turned to give Elizabeth and Lorne a sad smile. "I understand it may seem unlikely, improbably even, but I too cannot believe that the Ancestors would allow John to die until his job here is finished."

Elizabeth nodded. She respected Teyla, relied on Rodney's intelligence and she trusted the instincts of the man who'd survived as a runner for seven years. She also knew with certainty she would never be able to work as well with anyone, the way she did with John.

He was the ying to her yang, and although they argued, his impulsive manner sometimes driving a wedge between them, their disagreements never lasted for long. From the first moment they'd met, Elizabeth realised he was the one she needed by her side to restore Atlantis into the great city it used to be. Rodney was right. It made no sense, and it wasn't even logical, but Elizabeth couldn't accept he was dead either.

She pulled back her slim shoulders, shook off the lingering feeling of desperation and got back behind her desk. "Major. I want you start approaching all of our allies."

"Ma'am?" Lorne expression was puzzled.

"Colonel Sheppard is out there somewhere, and we are not going to rest until we bring him home."

ooooOoooo

"Libero…_**Libero**_, Wake up old woman! There's someone here who needs your help."

The incessant banging on her door had roused her from a deep sleep, but it was the urgent voice that caused her to open her eyes. Instinctively she blinked, almost blinded by the sunlight streaming through her bedroom window, and grimaced as she fumbled, searching for her over-gown, before forcing her old bones out of bed.

"Libero!" The voice called again, more insistent this time. She knew it well. It belonged to Kammel, the blacksmith's son. He had one of the loudest voices she had ever heard, right from the day she'd brought him into the world.

"I'm coming, Kammel - a little patience please!" She looked at the clock and frowned. It was just past six in the morning, not much earlier than her usual time to start the day, but Libero was tired. The youngest member of the Falanent family had chosen to arrive over ten cycles early, and it had been barely three hours since she'd left Jusaro and her new daughter in the care of her husband and five strapping sons.

The curtains were still closed in her small lounge, and she stumbled through the half light to reach the door, opening it just in time to see Kammel's calloused raised fist about to knock one more time.

Kammel was a tall man, and Libero had to peer past his broad chest to see a pair of black boots sticking out the end of his cart. She stumbled, rubbing her aching hip as she made her way towards her latest patient. He looked tall, perhaps even tall as Kammel, and he was wearing some kind of uniform, but his face was so dirty she couldn't make out his face. Only one thing was immediately obvious to her at this stage, his right leg was badly broken. The lower limb was sticking out at an alarming angle.

"Help me into the cart, I need to take a closer look." Libero had no sooner made the request, when the blacksmith lifted her up as if she were a sack of coal, and dumped her so hard the cart shook. "Careful, boy!"

Kammel blushed scarlet mumbling his apologies, as she quickly regained her composure and began carefully assessing the man's injuries. It was hard to tell under all the dirt, but when she wiped the grime away from his face, it was covered in dried blood.

The stranger was lying so still, for a moment Libero thought he was dead. Her gnarled hands searched for a pulse and she sighed with relief at the soft flutter beneath her fingertips. It was slow and thready, but proof he was still hanging onto life. Libero had been a healer for many years but this man was so badly hurt, she wondered if her limited skills and herbs would be enough to save him.

When she gently probed the back of his head, her hand came away covered in blood. It was a serious wound, perhaps life threatening, but with no doctor within a hundred miles, she would do her best for the stranger.

Just like the little girl she'd delivered this morning, this man was someone's child. His mother or wife, perhaps even his own children would be worrying about him, so she would do her best to keep him alive until they could get him home.

"Kammel. I need two straight pieces of wood, about eighteen inches long – and some twine." Libero started looking around even as she asked the question, and saw an old, broken credenza someone had thrown out in the trash.

"Over there." She nodded towards it, and waited while Kammel threw one of the drawers to the ground, and taking an axe, cut off just what she needed. He handed them over and digging deep into his pocket, produced the twine. She smiled at him. Kammel could be clumsy, and was a little rough around the edges, but he was a good boy.

"Is he going to live?" Kammel asked quietly, as he watched Libero secure the broken limb into the splint. Beads of sweat rolled down the wrinkled face as she tied the twine tight, but the stranger didn't stir.

She tied off the ends of twine, and put out her arms to be lifted down. The old woman flinched as she touched the ground, then carefully arranged her gown to preserve her modesty. "We'll see…You didn't say where you found him."

Kammel raked a hand through his thinning red-hair. "I was returning from the market on Malunna, and when I came through the ancestral ring I saw something lying at the side of the road. It was still dark then and at first I thought it was a dead targ. He was so dirty it was only when I got close, I realised it was a man."

"You did well today, Kammel." Libero patted his arm. "I don't yet know if the stranger will live or die, but at least your actions have given him a chance. Now I need you to wake your brothers."

Kammel's expression became confused, indignant even, so Libero knew she would have to explain. "His leg is badly broken and I don't want to jolt it any more than we have to. I need him lifted on something solid, with a man at each end."

He nodded, and all traces of irritation gone, quickly ran down the cobbled street. It was still early, and none of the other residents of the small row of white-washed cottages had made an appearance. Libero didn't like leaving the wounded man on his own, but she needed to prepare for his arrival. With a sigh she looked at the stranger one more time, before making her way inside. She only hoped that her skill would be enough to save his life.

ooooOoooo

Every part of his body screamed as he lay dazed and confused, unable to see though a misty veil. A raging fire was burning him alive, and he groaned as a calloused hand gently lifted his head.

"You must drink." A voice told him, it was a woman's. "My potion will help ease your pain, and cool the heat in your blood."

Unprepared for the sharp, bitter taste, the liquid caught the back of his throat and he started to choke.

"Easy now..." Her features were blurred, but the voice was kind as she gently pressed a cold cloth against his face, wiping the excess from his mouth and the sweat rolling down his chest. It felt good.

He felt the cloth removed and heard a plop, as it was put back into water. The gnarled hand then placed his head back against the pillow. Suddenly he shivered, freezing, as the fire gave way to a biting cold. He trembled, and instinctively tried to curl in on himself to get some warmth. "Arrgh!"

"Shush, my child…" The old hand took his and held on, while he tried to bite back the screams, and ride out the fierce searing pain shooting through his leg.

Tears fell unhindered and he clenched his jaw, to stop the sobs threatening to escape. All the while she rubbed his palm and hummed. Her voice was a little hoarse as if she was tired, but the sound was familiar somehow. It brought back a faint memory of another woman, younger, with a sweet lyrical voice - but he couldn't recall who it was.

Gradually the pain began to ease to a dull ache, and the hand let go. She pulled up the blankets and tucked them around his neck, then swept back the damp hair sticking to his face.

"My name is Libero, and it is I who have been caring for you these last few days. You have a serious head wound, and your right leg is badly broken so it is important to keep as still as possible. I was beginning to think you may not survive, but I believe you have turned the corner now, although the fever is still upon you."

There was a moment's pause, and although he couldn't he sure, he thought she was staring at him.

He could hear the concern in her voice when she spoke again. "I am sorry for staring, but you remind me of someone from my past…Wait, you can't see me properly, can you?"

"No…" He croaked. It was his worst nightmare, and he couldn't suppress the fear he'd been keeping at bay since he'd woken up, from showing in his voice.

"I know you must be frightened but please, try not to worry. It is not uncommon to temporarily lose sight in cases such as yours. Once your head starts to heal, I am confident your sight will soon return." She took his hand again and gave it a squeeze. "Now, I'm going to leave you to sleep while I get some supplies…but tell me – what should I call you?"

It was a simple question. A question where the answer should have been automatic, like breathing.

"I don't know." He whispered, and grabbed the old hand tighter as panic rose up threatening to choke him. "Libero, please help me – I can't remember who I am…"

ooooOoooo

TBC

Well now we know what happened to John...but what next?

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review. I really love to know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks again for all the reviews! And I also want to thank the people who have reviewed under the anonymous banner. I'd love to reply, but unfortunately ff doesn't allow me that facility.

I also want to thank my beta and friend **Sterenyk Strey **for putting up with the late delivery of these chapters. And in this chapter especially all mistakes are mine, as I tweaked it endlessly after getting it back!

So...John is alive, but what next for our favourite pilot?

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 4

In his fevered state he drifted in and out of consciousness but when the fire eventually cooled, he missed the relief the uneasy oblivion had brought.

Even doped with Libero's drugs, the pain was immense. His body ached with unseen bruises. His head pounded so hard, he thought it would explode. And the fierce shafts of pain shooting through his leg were sometimes so unbearable, it threatened to take his breath away. Only one thing got him through it, the person who never left his side - Libero.

In the height of the fever she bathed him. Cared for his wounds with a tender touch, and during the worst of his pain she would hold his hand, a comforting presence in his world of darkness.

At first he was frightened his sight would never return but just as Libero had promised, the fog started to clear after a few days. It took a little longer before he saw the wrinkled blue eyes of his healer clearly for the first time, her kind face wreathed in smiles as the slight, stooped figure gave him a gentle hug, but while he was relieved to see again, his nightmare was far from over.

The constant pain he was becoming accustomed too, but he still couldn't remember anything about himself – not even his name. No clues to his identify or where he came from. He couldn't even remember what caused his injuries or how he got there. His life was a complete blank, until the moment he woke up in agony in Libero's spare room.

In an effort to jog his memory, Libero gave him the clothes he'd been wearing on the day he was found clinging onto life at the foot of the ancestral ring. He didn't even know what this 'ring' was, but then nothing rang a bell, not even the torn, blood-stained black fabric.

The black cotton cloth felt quite soft to the touch, but wasn't like the stiff ornate braided uniform worn by the village militia. Although casual in design, he was pretty sure the functional garment was a uniform of some description - had he been a soldier too? There were faded scars littering his body which hinted at a life of action and danger, but he couldn't remember how, where or when he'd sustained these injuries, let alone whom or what cause he'd been defending.

Night after night he lay awake in the small narrow bed racking his brain, trying to remember, but all it did was aggravate his headache. It was tearing him apart but nothing resurfaced, zip, nada, zilch. His past was a mystery, but regardless of what he'd been, it was all clear that his days of action were well and truly over.

The injury to his leg was so severe, that much to the old lady's regret the limb hadn't healed the way she'd hoped. He was now a cripple, and combined with the persistent memory loss, sometimes the constant nagging pain threatened to overwhelm him.

A man with no past, with nothing to validate his existence and restrained by his own body, he was living a nightmare. Almost as if he'd been stranded on a desert island or held in solitary confinement - a prisoner held captive by his unresponsive memory and broken body.

He could tell by her sad blue eyes that Libero felt guilty, so during the day he sucked up the pain, and tried not to let his misery show. Except at night, in the privacy of his room he allowed his feelings, his tears of frustration, rage at the injustice of his situation come to the surface. At those times he almost wished she'd allowed him to die instead of healing him.

Weeks turned into months and with still no clues as to his past, he decided it was time to start building a new life. This village, and the cottage his shared with Libero was all he had now, it was his home. It was clear the old lady enjoyed having him around, as when he'd suggested it was time to move on, she'd insisted he stayed with her. He couldn't remember his own mom, but reckoned if she'd been anything like Libero, he'd been one lucky kid.

The villagers were friendly too. Right from the start they'd come to visit, bringing gifts of food when his appetite had been poor, and clothing once he'd started to get back on his feet. There was one thing missing, he needed to choose a name. He had been putting it off hoping that someone would recognise him, or better yet if he could start to remember. Regrettably, neither had happened.

It wasn't long after he'd arrived that Libero had told him he resembled her dead husband - Shaule. The old lady's eyes had lit up as she'd described their life together, and while she'd been talking, he wondered if he'd left a wife at home – wherever _home_ was. Then the old woman's face clouded over as she described the accident that took her husband's life. Shaule had died young before they'd even had a chance to have a family, but their love was so strong she'd never remarried.

He suspected Libero would be pleased if he took the name for himself, but somehow the name Shaule just didn't feel right. In the end another name sprang to mind, a name that was a better fit - Jolin.

While the old woman dozed rocking in front of the log fire, he sat on the worn upholstered chair opposite with his bum leg supported on a padded stool. He rubbed the aching limb, and glanced over at his crutches in distaste. Spring was fast approaching, and maybe it was the symbolism of the season of rebirth, but Jolin was filled with a determination to improve his lot. In the fading light, only the flames from the fire and the one oil lamp illuminated the drawing on his lap. It was the crux to his plan, because Jolin knew if he was to have any kind of future, he would need better mobility.

The metal brace he'd designed, while still not giving him a full range of movement, would at least give his damaged limb more support. Support, that would also hopefully lessen the pain, and allow him to ditch the crutches in favour of a cane. He was no artist but the plans didn't look too crappy, and he was confident they were something Kammel could work with. Jolin knew that in the grand scheme of things it was only a small step, but it was still progress of sorts and he felt a sense of achievement.

"You're smiling. I was beginning to think you didn't have a smile to spare." Libero said with a trace of mischief, but as the colour flooded his cheeks, she stopped teasing. "No…don't stop, it's a lovely smile, one I hope to see more often. Tell me child, what has happened while I've slept to make you so happy?"

Jolin was shocked. He was taken aback by the revelation, and now realised the old woman hadn't been fooled by his act for a second. Libero had saved his life and given him a home, but he owed her so much more. It was time to lighten up, or at least try to.

"I've decided on a name." At her surprise, his smile got wider. "Jolin."

Libero pulled herself further up the chair, and leaned forward. "That's the name of the character in the book I read to you when you couldn't see."

"Maybe that's why I chose it, because somehow he became real to me when everything else in my life had slipped away." He shrugged. "Or maybe it's because he was a hero to his people, someone I'd like to aspire to."

Libero smiled. "It's a fine name, for a fine young man." She reached over and patted his hand, accidently sending his design falling onto the floor. Before Jolin managed to retrieve it, Libero picked it up and studied it carefully before looking up with curiosity.

"And what is this you've been working on?"

He held her gaze. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done, but its time I started to pull my weight around here. I want to get a job, but to do that I need to be able to get around better." His expression grew serious as he gently took the drawing from her. "If Kammel can make this for me, I'm hoping to be able to do just that."

"You don't owe me anything…_Jolin_." Her wrinkled face fell, and her voice cracked slightly. "I'd been alone for a very long time when you turned up on my doorstep and until then, I never realised how lonely I was." She whispered that last part almost as if to herself, before smiling at him. "It's been a joy having you around, Jolin, and I hope you know you have a home with me for as long as you wish."

He cared for the old woman but didn't feel comfortable with displays of emotion, so settled for reaching over and giving the withered hand a squeeze.

Jolin wondered if the man he'd been in his former life was the same, and whether he would ever get the chance to find out. By the grey in his temples and the fine lines on his face, he reckoned he was close to middle age. Plenty of time to formulate some set traits. Yet in a different place, with a new life ahead maybe he would be different. People could change, couldn't they?

"Anyway, what say you sit back down and I'll wait on you for a change?" Jolin said, reaching for his crutches, then suppressing a wince, hauled himself painfully out the chair.

In truth he'd made the offer partly to lighten the mood, but also because Libero looked tired. It was no secret she hadn't slept much during the early days of his recovery. He was worried that the hollows in her cheeks were a sign all the sleepless nights were catching up with her.

"But your leg…" she protested.

In response Jolin took her arm, and led her back to her chair. "My leg is as good as it's gonna get, and it's about time we both accepted that." The light seemed to fade from the sparkling blue eyes, but his comment hadn't been made to wound.

"Look…I've accepted my life will never be the same again, but at least I have one, thanks to you." He smiled, and was pleased to see if not a smile in return, at least the strain had left her face.

"Very well then. Some tea would be nice…but not too strong. And put a little milk in it – I think we still have some left." Libero eased herself back on the old wooden rocking chair and closed her eyes. "And, Jolin…thank you."

Jolin hobbled away. He was still in pain, but felt better having finally taken charge of his life. There was no point in dwelling on the past, because his memory was a clean slate. The future was out there still to be written, and from now on he – Jolin – was looking forward to wherever the path would lead him.

ooooOoooo

The empty box seemed to mock her as Elizabeth stood, rooted to the spot, wondering where she was going to start.

It was hard enough packing the sum of a man's life into a soulless container, but John Sheppard was no ordinary man. In many ways it felt like a betrayal, as she still couldn't believe he was dead.

At his memorial service that morning she'd read the eulogy, but the words sounded trite, insipid, the whole service surreal as she'd spoken over the empty casket. With no body to bury she understood it was an emblem to signify loss, but it felt like a sham. Deep down inside she knew he was still alive. It was unquantifiable, and undoubtedly illogical, but she couldn't shake it. He was out there somewhere waiting for them to bring him home, and if she were to give up now, she'd be letting him down.

Last week when she'd gone to the SGC to plead for more time, General O'Neill had gently taken her aside and told her it was time to move on. Part of her knew he was right. Over three months of searching, pulling ever favour they had, had yielded nothing. John Sheppard was still missing, and common sense dictated she must accept the only evidence available - he'd perished on Andulanan.

It was time for her to pick up the pieces, or at least try to. Not an easy task because John had been more than the military leader of Atlantis, he had, and always would be, her friend. There was no doubt his loss would be keenly felt for a long time to come, but their mission must continue so it was time to move on.

The room, his quarters, were just as he'd left them. It was like he'd left to go out for a jog, or to the mess, and would walk back in at any moment.

An image of his lopsided grin and the wild, impossible hair flashed in front of her. Suddenly the air got too thin, her jacket too tight, and she was struggling to breathe…

"Elizabeth…Are you all right?"

Elizabeth swung round to see Teyla standing in the open doorway. The Athosian was still wearing her tan leather vest and long shirt she'd worn to the service. The blue shirt she wore, was the same shade as John's dress uniform.

She composed her features, trying not to reveal the turmoil that had nearly brought her to her knees only moments before. "I'm fine. Just a little tired."

Teyla walked into the room and took the cardboard lid out of her hands. Elizabeth looked at them surprised. Her knuckles were white. She hadn't realised she'd been holding on to it so tightly. Teyla laid it on the single bunk and went over to stare at the poster of the Solitary Man. "I always thought it strange that a sociable man like John would think of himself this way."

Elizabeth smiled. Teyla was a highly intelligent woman, but sometimes she failed to grasp the culture they enjoyed in Earth. "It's the title of a song, Teyla, by one of John's favourite artists."

"It means more than that." Ronon's gruff voice heralded his entrance into the small room. He stood with his arms folded as he nodded towards it. "People don't understand men like me and Sheppard. Solitary isn't just about being alone – it's how you feel inside. He and I are the same. I recognised it when we first met, that's why I trusted him."

She had never heard the Satedan say so much, but today was turning out to be one of those days.

"I guessed that's where you'd all be." Rodney shuffled into the room. He looked hurt, and started at them accusingly. "An invitation would have been nice…I was his friend too, you know."

With the extra bodies the room was cramped, but somehow it felt right, natural. The people present were more than his team, they were his friends, and Elizabeth regretted she'd rarely accepted his invitations to movie nights – in this very room.

"None of this was planned, Rodney," Teyla assured him. "I think…I _believe_ that we all felt a need to be close to John. And where better than here, where we spent a lot of our time?"

Ronon strolled over, and picked up the box. He threw it across the room, and glared at Elizabeth "What's the hell's this for? Sheppard's not dead and when he comes back he'll find his room just how he left it!"

Teyla rushed over and edged between them. "Ronon. Can you not understand that Elizabeth has a job to do?" The Athosian reasoned, gently pulling him to the side. "For months we have searched but have not been able to find him. I do not want to believe it either, but we have to accept the fact that John may well be dead."

"_Sorry_ – I'm not buying it." Rodney shook his head vehemently. "How many times has Sheppard cheated death?" He looked at each of them in turn, but with no answer forthcoming he continued. "Well anyway…all I'm saying is it would take more than one Wraith to kill him, besides the man might be a jinx, but he's already proven he's hard to kill." He reasoned, and his voice lost its sharp edge and became quiet.

"Look, that First Minister guy told us Sheppard looked pretty beaten up. So, I'm guessing if John hadn't been thinking straight...or _something_, that combined with the pressure to get off the planet before it went kaboom - well, I'm betting he dialled a wrong address and ended up in Oz, instead of Kansas."

Teyla's expression grew puzzled. "I do not know of any place called Oz, Rodney."

Even though she didn't feel like it, Elizabeth had trouble suppressing a smile. "It's a fictional place, Teyla. I'll tell you the story later." She raked her hand through her hair as she faced her chief scientist. "I haven't given up either, Rodney, but I've been told to either abandon the search _or_ start looking for another job."

"Oh…" Rodney went silent for a moment then his eyes sprang open, and he snapped his fingers. "But _we _haven't been told anything – right?"

"_Rodney_…" Elizabeth cried out, exasperated.

"Wait - hear me out." He persisted, his tone getting more excitable by the second. "My back's been playing up and with Sheppard out of the picture," his eyes clouded over, "temporarily at least, I think its time for me to go back to the lab. I'd like to re-visit an old project of time – to find planets with a viable source of naquada."

Teyla smiled, as she picked up his thread. "Of course it would be necessary for someone – perhaps I and Ronon? To accompany you when you are ready to begin visiting these planets."

"Yeah, can't have you going alone." Ronon grunted, with a twist in his lips and a gleam in his green eyes.

Elizabeth flopped on the bed, and put her head in her hands. When she looked up, it was clear they were looking for some kind of 'unofficial' approval.

"You people are incorrigible." She let a long sigh. "_Fine_, but keep it under the radar, and don't make it obvious what you're really doing."

Rodney elbowed Ronon in the ribs, and ignored the Satedan's low growl. "I've just said what we're doing. But if we _happen_ to find Sheppard on our travels…"

In a low voice Teyla put a finger to her lips. "Hush, Rodney – I think that is exactly what Dr Weir is trying to warn you about."

Elizabeth mouthed a thank you to Teyla, as she wearily rose off the bed and left the three friends behind, plotting, in Sheppard's quarters.

With Caldwell arriving tomorrow to take over John's post, she didn't know how long she could keep the colonel's sharp eyes, and uncompromising stance at bay. One think was for sure – John's quarters would stay the way he'd left them. The room would be sealed so no-one could touch a thing. At least not while she remained in charge.

ooooOoooo

TBC

Hope you enjoyed the chapter - and please review. I really love to know what you think.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm so pleased you're still enjoying this, and thanks again for the reviews - your support means a lot!

The last time we caught up with John, he had a change of name. So what is 'Jolin' up to?

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER FIVE

He sensed rather than saw the small arm thrust into the air, but without looking round Jolin didn't have to guess which of his class it would be.

Garven was a good kid, smart as a whip, but he could also be the most annoying. The eight-year old was constantly bugging him during class, asking dumb questions like, "_How do you get your hair like that?"_ And _"Why do you speak_ _funny?"_

Therefore Jolin took his time, and finished writing the last equation on the board before turning round, but instead of seeing the small red-haired boy, a vision of a stocky man with blue eyes and a cynical expression send a sharp pain piercing through his skull.

A gaggle of frightened, high pitched voices gradually brought him to awareness. "Master…Master Jolin – are you all right?"

Jolin wrenched his eyes open surprised to find himself lying in a heap, with the children surrounding him. Some of the girls were sobbing, their small faces streaked with tears.

"I'm okay…there's nothing to worry about." He mumbled in a rough voice as he scrambled to his feet, helped by a couple of the older boys.

The blinding headache was gone, replaced by a dull ache, but the fall hadn't done much for his leg. It hurt like hell, but Jolin didn't want to cause any more fuss so suppressed a yelp by gritting his teeth as he slumped down onto the chair. Garven placed a glass of water into his hand, the young boy staring at him so intently, Jolin half expected to receive a lecture.

His hand was shaking, and he desperately wanted to make sense of what had just happened, but didn't dare go home in the middle of the day. It was only a temporary position while the resident teacher took time out to bond with her new baby, but Jolin had introduced some new lessons to the curriculum. He enjoyed his job so hoped that they, and him, would empress the elders enough to keep him on in some capacity after her return.

In the beginning he'd only made the changes because soon after starting, Jolin discovered his aptitude for math. Some of the children were really bright, and enjoyed the more challenging lessons including a game he invented, 'What's the prime number?' Except after today's _performance,_ he was pretty sure the worthies who ran the village wouldn't be too impressed by a teacher who passed out on the job.

The sobbing had stopped, but he could tell by their terrified expressions, he'd frightened them. He wondered if there was a snowballs chance in hell he could persuade the kids to keep quiet about it, but as he looked into the small worried faces, Jolin knew that was just plain dumb. A distant memory of a deep guttural laugh seemed to reverberate around the room as he prepared for some damage limitation.

He was feeling pretty shook up, but Jolin forced a smile. "Thanks, kids, but I'm fine now. He made a show of glancing towards the ground and rubbing his leg. "I think I'll have to ask Mistress Sumaro to use a little less wax on the floor."

Garven rubbed his small foot along the surface, and glanced back at him with suspicion. "Why? It's not slippery."

Jolin gave him a tight smile, but ignored the remark. "Right, everyone - back to your seats. You too, Rodney."

Garven stood with his arms folded, rooted to the stop. "My name's _Garven_." The young boy looked pissed, but also a little hurt, and Jolin felt his mouth go dry. Why had he said that? And who the hell was Rodney?"

Mortified, he gently pulled the child towards him. "I'm really, _really_ sorry, Garven. For a moment you reminded me of an old friend of mine."

The boy's face wrinkled in confusion. "My mother told me you'd lost your memory."

Jolin raked a hand through his hair, and tried to rub the headache away with it. "I hear ya, Garven…so had I."

ooooOoooo

A light golden tan now replaced the pallid complexion, and while still lean, Libero could see the difference her home cooking had made to his hollow cheeks. He hadn't come from her womb, but she loved Jolin as if he were her own. She also knew him better than he did himself, and she could tell from here there was something wrong. The smile he gave from the top of the street was strained, as if he were in pain, or worse.

His lumbering journey towards the cottage was agonising slow, as Jolin was surrounded by children. They were all talking at once, their excited, high-pitched voices vying for his attention, the youngsters only leaving his side when their mothers called them in. Libero was proud of him. Jolin made light of his disability and had worked hard to made a new life for himself, but the troubled look in his eyes made her wonder how long this was going to last.

She used her apron to wipe her hands, then took it off, casting it carelessly to the side as she made up the short distance to meet him.

"I'm _fine._" Jolin raised an eyebrow as he answered the unspoken question, but Libero knew it was a lie. His leg was troubling him, evident by the way he was leaning heavily on his cane, but as he got closer, she could see more than pain in the hazel eyes.

Libero took hold of his arm, guided him into the house, and helped him onto his chair. "I'll be the judge of that."

Suddenly Jolin took a sharp intake of breath, and hissed. His hands clenched by his side as his head flopped back, eyes shut tight.

"What's wrong? Jolin – tell me!" Her heart was racing, and for the first time in a long while Libero didn't know what to do.

After a short but unbearable silence, Jolin opened his eyes and meet her worried gaze. "I think my memory is starting to come back." His voice was rough, and filled with emotion.

Jolin seemed to be struggling to find the next words, so she didn't interrupt. "I saw a vision of a man's face in the class room today. Someone called Rodney. And I could hear laughing. It was another man, someone different I think – although I don't know why I should know that…" His voice trailed away, confused. "Then, when you spoke to me as I came in, the words you used were so familiar I could hear someone else speaking them. It was another male voice with a strange, lilting accent."

Libero had been quietly dreading this day, but knew it would happen eventually. What she didn't expect and what alarmed her more, was for the repressed memories to give him so much pain.

She sat on the edge of his chair and gave his hand a squeeze. "Lie back and rest your eyes a while. When you're feeling stronger we'll talk more."

A knock on the door, followed by the handle turning, made Libero move quickly away and Jolin scrub a hand over his pale face.

"Kammel, don't loiter by the door – come in." Libero smiled as the young blacksmith popped his head inside, and waved him into the small living room.

His rugged face clouded over when he looked at Jolin. "Are you all right, Jolin? I heard you fainted in school today."

Jolin blushed red. "I _fell. _The damn floor had been polished, and I slipped."

"Language, Jolin." Libero gave him a suspicious glare, but despite her concern she let the matter drop – for now.

The young man grinned, his relief evident. "Good! Because there's a dance in the hall tomorrow night, and I was hoping you would be able to come."

"Are you asking me out?" Jolin quipped, his lips twitching in amusement. "Because if you are, I should tell you my dancing days are over."

Kammel shook his head, and narrowed his eyes. "Very funny. No, I need you to come because if you're there, then Preila will come over to see you." At Jolin's confusion, the big man grinned, and his eyes flashed with mischief. "And we both know that where she goes, so does her sister."

"A honey trap…" Jolin laughed and shook his head, but saw Kammel and Libero looking puzzled. "It's an expression for using something or _someone_ to attract someone else – like flowers attract bees."

"Ahh…So you'll do it then?" Kammel pressed the issue.

Jolin squirmed in his chair. "I don't even think I liked dancing before…What makes you think Preila even likes me?"

Libero could see Kammel look to her for help, and felt a little sorry for the big, awkward young man.

Jolin too was clearly uncomfortable about the whole thing, but for once she wasn't going to take pity on him. "Then you must have damaged your eyes along with your leg, my boy. The girl is besotted with you, and she isn't the only one."

His jaw dropped, and Libero couldn't contain a chuckle. The child really didn't know how attractive he was. Still it was time for the amusement to stop as after Kammel's revelation, she wanted to make sure Jolin hadn't damaged his leg in the fall.

"Don't worry, Kammel, I'll have a word with him. Besides, I'll be going too. Just because I'm old, doesn't mean I don't enjoy a dance. I used to be very light on my feet you know." She teased, as she led him to the door.

Her smile faded as soon as the two of them were once again left alone. "What made you faint?" When Jolin opened his mouth to speak, she put out her hand. "And don't lie to me. That pathetic story may have convinced Kammel, but I need to know the truth."

"I didn't faint – I _passed_ out." At first Jolin's voice was indignant. He sounded like one of his pupils who was trying to justify himself after misbehaving.

Libero said nothing while she drew back the curtains to let the light in, then came over and looked in his eyes. He flinched as she pulled back each lid and checked the iris, but she was relieved to find them normal. Next she ran her hands carefully over his head.

"Ow!"

Jolin flinched, and Libero stood back. "That's quite a bruise you have from _passing_ out. Are you dizzy? Feel nauseous?"

"No. Apart from a headache and yanking my leg, I feel fine." Jolin looked into the hurt blue eyes, and his own filled with remorse. "It happened when I had the vision. A blinding headache knocked me for six, and then the lights went out. Look, I'm sorry. In the beginning I only came up with the story to protect my job but then…well, I didn't want to worry you."

Libero pulled up another stool and sat down, before beginning to examine his leg. The deep ragged scars looked a little inflamed, but other than that, she was relieved to see no harm had been done. "I wonder if you gave your last doctor this much trouble." She chided gently.

"Probably." Jolin smirked.

"Well whoever they were, they took good care of you. Those incisions on your body are neater than I've ever seen; they were made by a skilled hand." Libero caught him staring at her, and was shaken to find a hint of fear within the depths.

"And I have so many of them." Jolin gave a mirthless laugh. "What do you think caused them, Libero? What sort of dangerous life did I lead that put me in harm's way so often?"

Jolin leaned back, closed his eyes and sighed. "I feel my old life is calling me back. What happens when I remember who I am…where I came from?"

Her heart was breaking, but she kept her tone light. "Then you can go back home…"

"But even if I did want to return I'm not the man I was." Jolin interrupted, his drawl deepened with anxiety. "Anyway I'm happy here. I like my life – teaching the children, living with you."

Libero knew Jolin felt uncomfortable by close physical contact, but couldn't help herself. She lent forward and gave him a gentle hug. To her surprise, he didn't move away.

She held him, stroking his hair. "Then you have a choice, Jolin, because you will always have a home with me."

ooooOoooo

The village hall was barely recognisable. Its simple wooden frame decked with garlands of the yellow and blue flowers abundant in the nearby meadow, lifting it from its usual mundane role of meeting room, and making it into something special. Tucked in the corner, Maule the baker was playing the piano. Tunes Jolin had never heard before filled the air, as the villagers dressed in their finest clothes took to the floor.

Jolin hated to admit it, but he was enjoying himself. Tired and achy after a sleepless night, he hadn't felt like going, but Kammel was a good friend and there was no way he would have let him down. Now, with a couple of tankards of mead in his belly, the company of a pretty woman didn't seem such a bad way to spend an evening.

Preila was nice, pretty even, and he liked her - but not in _that_ way. She was only a girl and he was a man…a man with no past. A man who preferred strong women, women who challenged him. Women who inspired him to be the best he could be. An image of a pair of warm, hazel eyes and dark, curly hair replaced the sweet smiling face in front of him, but the beautiful stranger vanished, just as quickly as she had come.

His heart was racing and the now familiar ache was starting to pound behind his temple, and Jolin clenched his fists to stop his hands trembling. He stared at Preila, wondering if she'd saw it, but the young girl continued to smile, babbling in words which now sounded incoherent. He needed to get out of there but didn't know how he could escape, without causing a whole bunch of questions he didn't feel up to answering.

"Jolin I hate to tear you away, but could you spare me a moment of your time?"

Elder Erlnne was standing by his shoulder, and it was clear even from the kind expression it wasn't merely a request, but Jolin didn't care. He was happy to have a legitimate excuse to leave his small party and follow the short, stout magistrate outside into the cool night air.

The walk outside was made in silence, and by the time Erlnne stopped just clear of the building Jolin was more or less back in control. He was also now starting to get a little worried. "If it's about my falling down in class yesterday..."

Erlnne shook his head, and smiled. "No, no, no – and I don't want you worrying about it. We are more than happy with the work you're doing with the children. In fact that's what I'd like to talk to you about. Bramal has advised us that when she resumes her duties at the end of the month, she would prefer to reduce her hours. Would you be willing to accept the remaining time in a permanent capacity?"

Yesterday morning this news had been what he'd wanted, but now Jolin wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"Jolin?" Erlnne's expression was becoming concerned, and Jolin quickly realised he hadn't responded. He quickly forced a smile on his face. "Thank you. I would be delighted to accept the part-time position."

"Excellent, I'm delighted to hear it and your appointment will be ratified at the next council meeting." Jolin's hand was engulfed and shook vigorously. A gust of wind blew Jolin's hair into his eyes, and Erlnne started to shiver. The elder pulled up the collar of his light jacket. "Brrr…it's getting a little chilly out here, what say we go back inside?"

Jolin started to follow him in when the elder stopped so suddenly, he nearly tripped.

"I nearly forgot." Erlnne spun round, and the man was so close, Jolin had to take a step back. "Could you take the children into Maluuna next week? There's a clinic giving out free vaccinations to help prevent an outbreak of Viron fever."

"Sure. How far away is this place?" Jolin didn't want to draw attention to his leg, but realised a long walk, especially while looking after a bunch of kids would be problematic.

"It's about ten miles to the north," Erlnne told him, "but Kammel is going to market in the village nearby so has offered to drop you off on the outskirts, and collect you once his business is finished."

Jolin nodded, then something occurred to him. "Would you mind if I took Libero along?"

Erlnne burst out laughing. "By all means – if you can get her to go." At Jolin's puzzled expression, he explained. "Our healer is excellent, but isn't too keen in accepting medical help for herself."

Jolin wasn't that surprised at the Elder's comments. Still, he was going to try.

When he returned to the hall the dancing was in full swing, and he noted with relief that his presence was no longer required. Preila was on the dance floor in the arms of the butcher's son. The blond heads were bent close together, smiling, and they seemed almost as one as they swayed in time to the slow melody.

Kammel came towards him with two glasses of punch in his hand. When Jolin went to take one, it was hastily whipped away. "Leave that alone - this is for Arell."

Jolin put his hands up and smiled. He looked over towards the tiny fair-haired girl waiting by the table. "I'm only kidding. I think its cool you two are hooking up."

"Cool? Hooking up? You do say the strangest things sometimes, Jolin." Kammel glanced over at Preila. "You missed your chance there, my friend."

Jolin shrugged. "I think she's made the right choice…Have you seen Libero? I need to speak to her."

Kammel nodded. "Just a minute ago, she's helping with the refreshments." With a look of disgust, he showed Jolin the half empty glasses. "I think she's making sure we don't drink too much!"

Kammel wandered off still shaking his head, and John smiled. He followed his friend's instructions and went into the room where he normally taught the kids, which tonight was transformed into a different use. When he limped in, he saw Libero look up and wave.

Libero filled up a tankard and handed it to him. Unlike Kammel's portion, it was filled to the brim. "Having a good time? Here…have some cake. Murell made it, and she's the best baker in the village."

Jolin accepted the tankard, but would have refused the cake except the plate was thrust into his hand. "Thanks…but I really just wanted to tell you I was going home."

Her smile faded and she looked at him with concern. "Are you ill?"

For a moment he considered spinning a line, but he'd promised he wouldn't lie to her again. "I had another vision and it's left me feeling wiped out. I'm okay, but I just want an early night."

Libero started to take off her apron, but Jolin stopped her. "No, don't leave – I'm good, or I will be once I get some sleep. By the way I nearly forgot." He stood up straight and forced enthusiasm he didn't feel. "You're looking at the new _permanent_ part-time teacher."

"Oh, Jolin – that's wonderful!" She came from behind the table and gave him a hug.

"And now that I get some perks, I'd like you to come with me when I take the class to get vaccinated." He was leaning on his stick with one hand, and crossing his fingers behind his back with the other.

"_Why_?" The blue eyes narrowed, and were looking at him with suspicion.

"To make sure you don't catch Viron fever. I've heard people talking. Three people died in the village last time it came around, and I don't want you getting sick." He said honestly, hoping this wasn't going to turn into a full scale debate.

Libero busied herself putting the tumblers in a row, muttering. After a minute she eventually looked up. "Of course I know. It was I who tried to save them." The old woman mumbled, her voice cracking slightly.

A mix of emotions flitted across her face. "_Fine_, I'll go, but only to make you happy…and _only_ because you were honest with me earlier."

He let out the breath he'd been holding. "Thank you…I'll see you later?"

"Yes, child, I'll see you back home – sleep well."

The old lady watched Jolin limp away, and continued looking until he was out of sight. Then the deep blue eyes began to twinkle…

ooooOoooo

TBC

I know there was no team in this chapter, but I wanted to give you a taste of Jolin's new life.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and please review!


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks again for all the reviews, I really appreciate the support!

Well...in the last chapter we got a glimpse of Jolin's new life, and he certainly seems happy. So what now?

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 6

The early morning sun was already high in the sky, and its welcome glow took the chill off the air and warmed his face. Carson was glad of the change of scene, until now he hadn't realised how much he'd needed to get away.

Maluuna was a pretty place, surrounded by fields of swaying golden crops as far as the eye could see and a small forest circling the town. A backwater hamlet Rodney would have called it, but Carson appreciated the quieter pace of life there, and could already feel the tension starting to leave his body. John had been gone for nearly six months now, and although Atlantis would always be his home, it just wasn't the same place anymore.

His missed his friend, and the lost was difficult enough to deal with, but the constant bickering between Elizabeth and Colonel Caldwell was causing added tension. The strained atmosphere was making everyone edgy, and no-one was immune as it caught everyone in the crossfire. Sheppard's team in particular bore the brunt, as one of the first acts of the new military leader was to separate the friends.

Teyla was _promoted_ to the new post of 'Off World Ambassador'. By her expressionless, silent response, he could tell she was unimpressed. It was a role she unofficially held anyway, however the real trouble started when Caldwell ordered Ronon to stop training the newbies. Carson was sure there was going to be a bust up when he'd seen the big guy's face turning scarlet. He was amazed when the Satedan simply turned and walked away - without taking off Caldwell's head.

Instead Ronon took out his revenge on the punch bag. He demolished it within minutes leaving sand all over the gym, and a mess of his knuckles. Carson treated him for cuts and severe bruising, and from the medical perspective at least, he supposed it was better than the alternative. For a while Carson was worried he was going to leave, but much to everyone's relief his big pal decided to stick around. Yet despite his concern for the two Pegasus natives, it was Rodney who worried him most.

It wasn't a secret the two men didn't get on. Rodney wasn't impressed with Caldwell's rigid, uncompromising style. In turn, Caldwell resented Rodney's manner. Elizabeth tried to convince him that the scientist spoke to everyone that way, but the colonel didn't buy it.

Carson knew Rodney could be abrupt, and had an unhappy knack of rubbing people up the wrong way, but there was no real harm in the man. Both he and Elizabeth had spoken to him, tried to convince the scientist to watch his step, but it was a lost cause.

It was almost as if Rodney took pleasure in pissing him off. Now as a result all of his activities were scrutinised, and the colonel was trying to move funds from the science budget, into his military coffers. It was causing ructions between him and Elizabeth, but worst still from Rodney's point of view, Caldwell was trying to force the scientist into another away team.

With Sheppard gone, Rodney didn't want to do it. He'd told Caldwell as much which had sparked off another argument, a real humdinger, resulting in his friend breaking out in a bad case of the hives.

Over a late night coffee in his office, Elizabeth had confided she was pulling out all the stops to try and get Caldwell reassigned, hopefully in favour of Lorne, but so far her request was falling on deaf ears. Shut safely away in the infirmary, Carson was glad to be well out of it, but was worried where it was all going to end.

"Carson. I've heard the stream has some pretty good fishing, and I'm sure I can handle a few vaccinations."

His companion today, Carol Summerville, came over and gazed at him with concern. "Forgive me if I'm out of line, but you look beat. I never met Colonel Sheppard, but I know since his death it's been a difficult time for all of you." A sad smile grew on her face. "All I'm saying is why don't you take a break for a couple of hours?"

He put down the last of the boxes and turned to his companion. Carol was the newest medic to join the expedition, and a little older than the other doctors. She was a divorced mum of two grown-up children, and since she'd arrived nearly two months ago Carson had a feeling she was trying to take him under her wing.

"Thanks, love, a wee break would be lovely, but that's not fair on you."

She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Phooey - I handled the ER in downtown Detroit for five years, this is a breeze!" Her short, dark bob swung around her face as she reached into a box and brought out his fishing gear.

"'C'mon. I snuck this in especially…You know you want to." She swung the rod from side to side, grinning.

Carson only hesitated for a moment, then came over and took it off her. A slow smile grew on his face. "Aye, I do – and thanks, but I won't take liberties. I'll be back in a couple of hours, but if you need me before then just give me a shout." He tapped his earpiece.

"I'll be fine, and I don't expect you back until at least lunchtime – doctor's orders!" Carol pressed the issue, and the prospect of some unexpected leisure time was too tempting to refuse.

He had just turned to go when he heard her call out. "Catch!" Instinctively he caught the foil-wrapped package.

"I can't have the chief MO dying of hunger." Carol winked, then turned back to unpack the rest of their supplies.

Carson held the package in his hands and stood for a moment, stunned at the kindness of his co-worker. He'd thought he'd kept his feelings hidden. Thought he'd been immune from the stress of everything that had been going on around him - but he'd been wrong.

He smiled at the woman who was no longer even aware of his presence, then, to the sound of her cheerful humming, picked up his fishing gear and walked out the door.

ooooOoooo

The child snuffled, and the big blue eyes became moist, but a whisper from the dark-haired man holding her tight, brought a smile to the cherub face.

Carol held out a jar filled with multicoloured lollipops on sticks. The little girl was staring at them. Looking between the doctor and her teacher wondering what to do, obviously seeking approval.

Carol gave the jar a shake, and the candy made a rattling noise. "Go, on, take one. You've been a very brave girl."

Not taking her eyes off Carol for a second, the small hand cautiously reached out and took one, then smiled as her tongue licked the sweet candy. The man ruffled the red curly hair, then lifted her off his lap. "Go outside and wait with the others, honey. I'll be out in a minute."

Carol disposed of the needle into the sharps container, and peeled off her gloves. "She smiled. "Right - who's next?"

"That was the last of the children, but would you mind vaccinating my _aunt_?" Jolin asked.

"Sure, no problem." Carol nodded while reaching for another pair of latex gloves. "By the way, if you don't mind my asking where you do come from? It doesn't sound like you're a local."

Jolin started to rub his beard, raking his fingers gently through it. It was dark, like his hair, but smattered with grey, hinting he wasn't as young as he appeared.

"I live in a village about ten miles from here." Jolin told her, but didn't elaborate.

There was an uneasy silence before he gave her a small smile, almost as if he was making up for his curt reply.

"Thanks for looking after the kids. May I send in my aunt now?"

Carol felt the colour run to her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Jolin, I really didn't mean to pry. Your accent sounded familiar, that's all. By the way, would you like one too?"

Jolin raised an eyebrow as he glanced over at the candy jar. Carol laughed, and shook her head. "No…I meant a vaccination. I'm sure we could spare it. And I'd be happy to have a look at your leg. What happened to it?"

Jolin immediately stopped rubbing it, and his expression became guarded. "I broke it…but it's getting better. Thanks for the offer, but I'm good. " He reached for his cane and began to struggle to his feet when Libero appeared.

"No it isn't." Libero gently pushed him back down. "Don't be so stubborn, Jolin - let the doctor examine you."

Ignoring Jolin's twisted expression, Libero explained to the doctor. "It was a bad break. I did my best to set the bones, but for some reason they just wouldn't knit properly."

"Its _fine_, and I don't have time for this." Jolin grumbled under his breath as he snatched his stick, wincing as he jerked his leg in the process.

Libero's expression turned from one of determination, to remorse. "Please, Jolin. If you don't want to do it for yourself - do it for me."

Carol felt awkward as she watching the two glare at each other. It was Jolin who spoke first.

"Okay, doc, I'll let you examine me but make it quick, we have a ride to catch." Jolin finally agreed, but it was with barely concealed irritation. He nodded towards Libero. "And she gets her shot first."

ooooOoooo

A loud splash caused Carson to glance up from under his hat, then scramble to his feet when he saw his line bobbing in the water.

He stumbled, nearly falling into the river as he grabbed his pole, his arms straining as he fought to keep the tension without breaking the line, or the rod. Time seemed to stand still as the battle raged between fish and man, the man in question drenched, as he waded deeper and deeper into the crystal depths.

With no one around Carson swore. Words his dear old mum would definitely not approve of, when with a loud snap, the line broke – leaving him nothing but an aching back for his trouble. He waded out the river and pulled off his boots with disgust, a puddle forming as he tipped out a mix of water, pebbles and some of the local vegetation.

His troosers were sodden, and he hated the damp, clammy feel against his skin, but a change of clothing would have to wait until he got back to base. Still, it had been fun. The first time in months he'd felt relaxed, and despite his discomfort, he wouldn't have changed a thing – except perhaps for catching the bugger who'd got away.

Carol was sitting outside the small hut, nursing a steaming cup. She smiled as he approached. "You look like a man who needs a cup of coffee."

"When I hired you, I didn't see mind reading on your resume," he quipped, but I'll not say no."

"Here -" Carol threw him a towel, and he sat down on an upturned box and began to dry his feet.

Carson laid out his socks to dry, and took the proffered cup. "So what did I miss?"

"The usual. Along with the shots I treated a mild case of tonsillitis, a couple of sprains, and stitched up one of the local farmers who'd got his arm caught in a fence."

As Carol went down the list on her pad. She perked up. "Oh, yeah, there was something interesting. There was a teacher who'd brought along his class for their shots, a young guy…well, youngish, and he was limping. I could tell he was hurting, but he refused to let me look at his leg until his aunt stepped in."

Carson smirked. "I have an auntie like that. She's five foot-nothing, but a real fire brand. It's a brave man who would cross her."

Carol shook her head. "This lady was formidable alright, but I don't think he was afraid of her. He didn't strike me as the sort of man who was afraid of anything." She mumbled the last part, and Carson saw the bubbly doctor look thoughtful.

"Can we help the laddie?"

"Maybe…" The doctor's expression was guarded. "I don't know how it happened as neither he, nor his aunt would say, but his right fib and tib were broken some months ago. His aunt who's a healer, tried to set the break but couldn't get the bones to set properly. When I ran a scanner over it, I found out why."

Carol pulled the scanner out her bag. "There's a foreign body wedged in the bone which caused it to splinter. I think it's a metal of some description." Carol handed the scanner to Carson.

After studying the results for a few minutes, he handed it back. "We'd need to run more tests, but I'm pretty sure if we removed the object, and put in a couple of pins he would have better mobility. Although the level of success would depend on how much deterioration has occurred."

"That's what I told him, but he refused to even consider the operation." Carol shrugged. "I could see his aunt wasn't happy, but he was more concerned about taking time off his work."

The Scot shook his head slowly. "Silly bugger. The longer the bones are left like that, in time he could lose the use of his leg altogether." He let out a long sigh. "It's so hard to make these people understand. They lead a simple life and haven't had the benefit of a good education like we've had."

"Not this guy." Carol blurted out. She threw the dregs of her coffee onto the ground and got to her feet. "I could tell by the way he spoke he was well educated, and from his accent it was pretty obvious he wasn't from around here." She mumbled. "In fact if I didn't know better I'd have sworn he was an American."

His heart began to race, and his mouth went dry as the unthinkable seemed to be happening. After all this time, it couldn't be John, could it?

"Oh? Tell me more, what did he look like?

"Tall…about six feet, with dark hair and a beard. He was sort of good looking, but too skinny for my taste. Not really my type." Carol winked at him, but Carson didn't notice. All of a sudden the world seemed to stand still.

He jumped up cursing, as he knocked his shin on the edge of the metal box. Inside the hut he scrambled about looking for his jacket. It had been warm this morning and he remembered taking it off before heading down to the lake, but now he couldn't find the bloody thing. Then he saw it. It had fallen down the back of a pile of boxes. Relieved, Carson grabbed it and hurriedly searched the pockets. When he found what he was looking for, he dashed back outside.

"Is this the man you met?" He thrust a picture into her hand. It was off one of the flyers they'd given out when John first went missing.

Carol's face paled, and her hand started to tremble. "His hair's a little longer and of course he has a beard now, but yes… it's him. I'm so sorry, Carson – I should have realised."

His emotions were in turmoil. A mix of elation John Sheppard was still alive, but frustration that he'd slipped away unnoticed. He could have kicked himself. Why, oh why did he have to skive today of all days?

"It's not your fault, lass." Carson came over and patted her shoulder. "You've never met the man and to be honest, we all thought the colonel was dead – well most of us did."

Carson grabbed his boots, grimacing as his feet squelched into the damp interiors. He looked up while tying his laces. "How long ago did he leave and where was he going?"

"Nearly three hours ago. His school party arrived just after you went fishing." Carol explained, then flushed again as she saw the guilt written on the Scot's face. "I'm sorry, but he didn't say where he lived, just that his village was about ten miles from here."

His heart sank as John had already got a head start on him, but after finding out his friend was still alive, a few hours meant nothing.

Suddenly he couldn't stop grinning. Rodney was right, they'd given up too easily, and he was looking forward to hearing his friend's sharp sarcastic taunt of '_I told you so._" the minute he brought John home.

Then his smile faded. Even with a bum leg nothing would have prevented the John Sheppard he knew from making his way home. He would have clawed his way back with his hands if he'd had to - so why didn't he? Something else was wrong, and Carson had a horrible idea what it could be.

He got to his feet and pulled on his jacket. "Do you remember what he called himself?"

The dark eyes became serious, as her face clouded over. Carson knew the lass had probably treated dozens of people today, and to remember this particular name was a long shot.

"Jolin. Yes, that was definitely it. That must be why I didn't make the connection." A relieved smile spread across her lips, but quickly died. "Oh - _oh_ dear. That's not good, is it?"

Carson let out a long sigh. "No, doctor, it isn't. But at least we know he's still alive…"

ooooOoooo

TBC.

At last Atlantis knows John is still alive. So what's going to happen next?

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review!


	7. Chapter 7

I'm so pleased you're enjoying this story, and thanks again for all the reviews!

We left it with Carson putting together the pieces and discovering John was still alive - so what next?

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 7

It was already getting dark when Jolin finally locked the old wooden doors, giving the padlock a final tug before leaving the schoolhouse behind. He didn't normally stay this late, but for the first time since he'd arrived in the village, Jolin was reluctant to go home.

He couldn't remember his mom, but Libero had saved his life and given him a home. In the grand scheme of things Jolin reckoned he'd been lucky to land on her doorstep. The problem? Libero had crossed the line today, and he wasn't happy.

Up until now they'd never had a cross word, but today she'd tricked him. Duped him into believing she was going for a vaccination just to keep him happy, but all along she'd only come to make him get checked out by the doctor.

A soft breeze whipped his hair and he shivered, but his face was scarlet. The humiliation still raw, as he remembered how she'd treated him like a child in front of a stranger. Jolin cared for her. He respected the hell out of the woman who'd taken him under her wing, but it still didn't give her the right to make decisions on his behalf.

Part of him knew she'd done it out of concern, guilt even, because it pained her to see him suffering.

He thought he'd managed to hide it. Thought he managed to suppress the dull, persistent ache that stayed with him twenty-four seven, but Jolin realised too late that nothing got past the keen blue eyes.

Each of his faltering steps was a reminder she'd failed to heal him with her usual skill, but regardless, she still shouldn't have embarrassed him like that.

Jolin didn't said anything while the children were around, and there hadn't been the opportunity in the short time before lessons resumed, but he was going to say something now. He wanted to stay there. The small, cosy cottage they shared was the only home he could remember, but if he was to remain, boundaries had to be drawn, and now was as good a time as any.

His leg was throbbing. The journey down the street more uncomfortable than usual, as each cobble jarred his leg increasing his misery. The pain had improved, becoming almost muted of late especially since he'd started wearing the brace, but today the limb was almost as painful as when he'd first got hurt.

Jolin guessed it was because of that damned examination. No matter how careful the doctor had tried to be, all the poking around had aggravated his wound. Now, all he wanted to do was go home, say his peace to Libero, then retreat to the sanctity of his small room.

He stumbled, nearly falling just as he reached the door. Jolin gripped onto the lintel, and swore through gritted teeth as he rubbed his leg. Once the sharp pain eased a little he put on his game face and was about to go in, when he heard voices coming from inside.

"And he is wonderful with the children." Libero was telling someone, and despite being angry with her, Jolin was finding it hard not to smile at the pride in her voice. "In fact Elder Erlnne confided to me that Jolin is the best teacher they've ever had in the village." Her voice lowered almost to a whisper. "He said he was actually quite disappointed when the former tutor wanted to resume her position."

The old lady continued talking, but as he was yet to hear her companion speak, Jolin wondered who she was talking to.

Curious, he tried to peek in the window, but the curtains were drawn. He was going to listen against the door to try and get some clues but it was getting colder, and the pain in his leg was notching up again so he needed to sit down. Although it felt like home, it wasn't his house so after a moments uncertainty, he knocked before walking in.

"Am I interrupting anything?" He asked, suddenly feeling a little hesitant when he saw the back of an unfamiliar man sitting in his chair.

"Come in Jolin." Libero smiled as she rose to meet him, her smile fading to a hurt expression as he approached. "Why are you knocking? I would have thought by now you would know this is your home."

Jolin gave her an apologetic smile. "I do know, and I appreciate it, but you're still entitled to your own space."

To his knowledge Libero had no family and from the scant view, Jolin didn't recognise the man. He wasn't from the village, yet, there was something familiar about him. One thing was for sure, whoever it was clearly had her spooked. The smile was still there, but it was stained, and she was uncharacteristically wringing her hands.

"Jolin, there is someone to see you." She waved her hand towards the stranger. "This is Doctor Beckett. He missed you at the clinic today and wanted to speak to you about your leg."

He wasn't in the mood for this, so Jolin limped over with the intention of telling the guy what he'd already told his colleague – thanks, but no thanks, when the man turned round.

The room spun as a fierce, sharp pain pierced deep into his skull. All of a sudden he couldn't see, couldn't hear, and could hardly breathe, as all his senses seemed to crash all at once. He began to sink to his knees cradling his head, helpless, barely aware of the strong grip keeping him upright, and half carrying, half dragging him across the room and into a chair.

"Take slow deep breaths…that's a good lad."

He felt his legs gently raised, and a cool cloth placed over his forehead. Voices wavered in and out somewhere in the background, one of them Libero's. She was worried, her usual composed voice clipped and tearful, but Jolin could hear the calm, controlled voice of the stranger break through her panic. He wanted to thank him for that, but the words wouldn't come.

Gradually the pain started to ease and he began to feel better, but Jolin was reluctant to open his eyes. He knew this man but from where and when, was a mystery. The face was as familiar as his own, and it was the same soft lilting voice he'd heard during one of his visions. Somehow Jolin knew there was nothing to fear from this familiar stranger, so why was he shaking?

"Could you get me my bag, Mrs Libero – it's just over there. "

A small smile formed on his lips at the strange title. Libero had only ever been Libero to him, but he knew her second name was Volander. She didn't know that he knew, but Kammel had let it slip during one night they'd spent in the local tavern.

"That's more like it." The doctor encouraged, "now I need you to open your eyes for me, son."

He didn't want to, but Jolin knew he couldn't hide forever, so slowly he exposed them to a face he remembered. "I recognise you…"

"I'm glad to hear it," the doctor smiled, "you and I good friends, John, we've been through a lot together."

Jolin stared at the kind face, but apart from an acknowledgement that he recognised this man, no other memories came to the fore.

"My name's John?" He asked hesitantly.

The doctor sat back on his heels and studied him intently. "Yes, you're John Sheppard. I'm Carson Beckett and as well as being your doctor, we also work together." Carson's eyes misted over, and his accent became heavier. "The news you're alive is going to make a whole lot of people very happy when I go back to the base."

John Sheppard…The name seemed to hang in the air, but just like the man in front of him, although familiar, it sounded strange to his ears. It was almost like an old shirt he'd grown out of, it didn't feel right. He wasn't that man anymore, and it didn't suit the life he was living now.

"I go by the name Jolin, and I have a new life now." He rasped, surprised at how rough he sounded.

The doctor's expression became guarded as he pulled on a pair of gloves. "_Okey_ _doaky_…If it makes you feel more comfortable, Jolin it is. Now let's have a look at you."

Jolin grimaced, flinching as the bright light of the pen shone into his eyes. The headache that had died down was now notching up again, and his head was pounding. It almost competed with the throbbing ache in his leg.

"My home and work is here now, but I am curious about my past - where do I come from?" Jolin's breath hitched, as the light was turned off leaving myriad colours dancing in front of him.

Carson didn't answer at once, as the medic continued checking him over. When he did, the doctor sounded hesitant.

"I think you've had enough surprises for one night, so we'll postpone the question and answer session until you're feeling stronger. I can see you're in pain, so what say we get you settled in your room and I'll give you something to take the edge off."

Jolin hated admitting his discomfort, but didn't resist as Carson helped him to his feet and shouldered his arm as he stumbled, staggering like Kammel after too much ale, into his room. He slumped onto the bed and closed his eyes, too beat to protest as Libero fussed with his blankets. They sprang open again when he felt a tight pressure on his arm.

Carson was preparing a syringe when he saw Jolin glaring at him. "I'm just taking a little blood to run some tests, then I'll give you that shot."

"I don't want your tests. And I'm feeling better so just go - leave me alone!" Jolin grumbled, but his protest didn't carry any weight. He tried to get up and move away, but didn't have the strength to do more than raise his head, which promptly flopped back onto the pillow.

"You're a lucky man to have such a good friend, Jolin – let Doctor Beckett help you." Libero gently chastised as she tweaked his pillow, and tucked the sheets around his neck.

He was going to object further, but the doctor had already slipped the needle into the crook of his arm. It stung, but only for a moment, and Jolin was so exhausted he was barely aware of the second pinch that followed shortly after. He shivered as the cool liquid chilled a path through his veins, but the relief was almost immediate. Libero was a gifted healer, but couldn't provide pain relief as effective as this. He only wished this medicine had been available when he'd first arrived.

Jolin was still determined to have a word with Libero, but although he hated to admit it, on this occasion she was right - he had behaved like an ungrateful ass. "Thanks, doc…_Carson_. I appreciate the assist, but you should know that I'm not coming back with you. Like I said before, my life's here now."

The doctor got to his feet, smiled and patted his arm. "And like I said before you're my friend, and that's not going to change wherever you decide to live. Now get some rest, and I'll come back to see you soon." Just as the medic turned to leave, Carson hesitated. "Would you mind if I brought another old friend along to meet you?"

Jolin's mouth went dry, but despite feeling uneasy his senses were too dulled by the drugs to react. "I don't know…"

It was a dumb answer, but the truth was he didn't. Jolin wished his memories had remained absent, but they hadn't. They were intruding into his new life, and regardless of how he felt about it, they needed to be dealt with.

After a moments silence, Carson responded. "I tell you what. When I return…because I do need to speak to you about that leg, I'll bring someone with me. If you don't feel up to meeting them, you don't have to – Okay?"

In response Jolin just shrugged. He was still reeling from the revelations. Too tired to argue, and too confused to make sense of what was happening to him. He was aware of Carson talking to Libero and tried to listen in, but his eyes were so damn heavy he couldn't keep them open any longer.

When he awoke, he was relieved to find himself thankfully alone. It was still dark, the only light coming from the moon casting a long shadow into his room. He didn't know what time it was, but his mind was dull and his body too sore to make the effort to go and look.

Jolin knew he needed to process what had happened, but it hurt his head just thinking about it, in any case, he was exhausted. Tomorrow was another day and as sleep pulled him under, he wondered what the hell was going to happen next. Whatever it was, Jolin knew with regret that his simple, uncomplicated life was never going to be the same again.

ooooOoooo

Carol was waiting for him when he walked into the cloaked jumper. "Did you find him?"

Carson nodded. "Yes, thank God his transmitter was still working."

"So...where's the colonel?" Carol looked confused.

Carson slumped down in the pilot's chair and started doing the pre-flight checks. "He's not coming, at least not yet."

"Oh…" Her face fell.

"Aye, that just about sums it up, lass." He turned and gave his colleague a wry smile. "The situation is more complicated than I'd anticipated, but I haven't given up. Not by a long way."

The short journey back was made in silence and when they arrived in Atlantis, rather than spreading the news as he'd originally intended, he made for his office instead. It was nearly midnight before Carson called an emergency meeting.

Elizabeth's hair was slightly tousled as she took her seat at the top of the conference table, and the dark shadow's Rodney was wearing, gave testament to another late night at the lab. Teyla looked as serene as always if a little mystified, while Ronon and Caldwell just looked pissed.

After a long day, and an even longer night Carson wasn't feeling too braw himself, so didn't waste any more time.

"I'm sorry for getting you out of your beds, but I'm not sorry for the reason. I found Colonel Sheppard – he's alive."

Jaws dropped, and amongst the hitched breaths, he saw the stunned looks turn into smiles.

"He's more or less well, apart from a bad leg…which is what brought him to our attention in the first place, however, he's lost his memory."

"How do we know its Sheppard?" Caldwell's words cut through the air of anticipation with the same effect as a surgeon's blade, leaving the other occupants tense and angry.

"Oh that's right, this is _bad_ news - you don't want him back, do you?" Rodney turned on the sour-faced colonel, his fury evident in his flushed cheeks, and clipped, sarcastic tone. "With Sheppard gone you just stepped into your dream job, but if he comes back -"

"Rodney! You're out of line." Elizabeth interrupted, staring at him.

"Don't worry about it, Doctor Weir," Caldwell told her in his usual laconic fashion, then turned to McKay with eyes as hard as ice. "For your information, Doctor McKay, if it this is true, I couldn't be happier. It's no secret I haven't always agreed with him in the past, but Colonel Sheppard is a fine commander. He has served his county and this base with distinction, and we did agree on at least one thing – we don't leave our people behind."

Caldwell's face darkened as he locked eyes with the scientist. "Nevertheless, regardless of whether we have found Sheppard or not, my position as Military Commander of this base is irreversible. I received confirmation of my permanent appointment two weeks ago."

The atmosphere was becoming tense, so Carson stepped back into the conversation "It's him alright. I took a sample of his blood for analysis. He's one-hundred percent John Sheppard."

Elizabeth broke into a wide smile that lit up her face. "That's wonderful news, Carson, so when is he coming home?

Rodney who'd been sulking since his exchange with Caldwell, gave him a piercing look. "That's right, Carson, what's the big mystery here? We've found him, so why isn't he tucked up in the infirmary by now?"

Carson mentally counted to ten before replying. "The problem is that colonel Sheppard doesn't want to come back."

At the shared looks of confusion and hurt around the table, he continued quickly. "Let me put it this way. Most amnesia sufferers are lost. They lose all sense of self and purpose when they lose their identity. But…John, or should I say _Jolin_, has taken on a new life, a new persona. In fact, he wishes I'd never found him."

Ronon glared at him, his expression becoming angry. "So what now? We can't just leave him behind."

"Is he happy, Carson?" Teyla butted in, her voice cracking slightly.

"He seems to be." Carson shrugged, then told them what he knew. "The lady he lives with told me he enjoys his job teaching the local children, and he has made friends in the village."

"So he's got a woman?" Ronon smirked, but there was no humour in his eyes. "No wonder he doesn't want to come home."

"Get your head out the gutter, laddie." Carson's face twisted, as he shook his head slowly and folded his arms. "Mrs Libero is seventy if she's a day, and she's the local healer. It's her we have to thank for saving the colonel's life. But aye, you're right in a way. It's obvious she cares about him - almost as if John were her son."

"_Fine_…so Sheppard has become 'Mr Chips' and is playing happy families with his new _mom_, but what about us?" Rodney blurted out, his face turning scarlet as his voice got higher with frustration. "We're his family too, and he belongs in Atlantis." He said the last part while giving Caldwell a sideway's glare.

"Well, Carson?" Elizabeth's green eyes showed her concern, but her expression remained deceptively composed.

Carson raked a hand through his hair, trying to rub away the headache that had been building up since he left the cottage.

"I've told him I'm coming back to talk about treatment for his leg, but in truth I'm more worried about his reaction to the flashbacks he's been having. He nearly passed out when he saw me, and Mrs Libero told me he's had similar episodes like this one before."

Carson paused for a moment, and allowed his gaze to take in everyone around the table. "Regardless of Jolin's wishes, I think his old life is coming back, whether he wants it to or not."

ooooOoooo

TBC

Finally - Atlantis has found him at last!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review!


	8. Chapter 8

I am thrilled with the response to this story, and I just want to say a huge thanks for all the reviews. Again I'm sorry I can't reply to reviews sent under the anonymous banner, as FF doesn't give the writers that option.

Well we left Carson telling Atlantis John was alive, but their joy was tempered by the fact 'Jolin' doesn't want to return. So what next?

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 8

It was the smell of cooking, rather than the sunlight streaming through the window, that roused Libero from a troubled sleep.

She was exhausted. It had been well into the early hours until Libero had been able to rest. The shock of Jolin's collapse and the startling revelations about his past, had sent her mind reeling. For hours she'd lain awake listening in case he needed her, but thankfully he hadn't stirred.

Doctor Beckett was a good man and she could tell he cared for Jolin, but Libero was no fool and knew his visit was going to have implications. Regardless of Jolin's statement of the night before, Libero knew things were going to change. His past, his people, were reaching out to him, and it was only a matter of time before he would have to make a choice. She loved him. Jolin was the son she'd never had, but always wanted. For that reason she would support any decision he made. As long as he was happy, she would be content – even if that meant she would also be once again alone.

The appetising smell wafting into her room made her stomach rumble. She was hungry. The supper she'd prepared the night before had been left untouched. Jolin, had been too ill to contemplate food, and her own usually healthy appetite was sullied. Now, despite having a heavy heart, she needed to eat.

The unease still lingered, but the fact Jolin was awake and making breakfast was a good sign. She was curious as it didn't smell like oatmeal, their usual meal for this time of the day, so she wondered what it could be. Libero stumbled out of bed reached for her over gown, and shuffled into the kitchen. A smile grew on her face when she saw the handsome young man, standing over the griddle using a knife to flip over a round, golden circle.

She came over and stood beside him. "Those smell good, what are they?"

"Pancakes." He answered simply, giving no other explanation as to why he'd chosen to make the unfamiliar meal.

Jolin nodded towards the table. "Have a seat, I think you're supposed to take some kind of syrup with them…but I could only find honey."

Libero pulled out a chair and watched while he loaded up a plate, and put it in front of her. He looked tired, the hazel eyes more brown than green, with dark circles that gave him a gaunt, almost haunted look. Jolin put down his own plate, then poured out two cups of strong, almost black tea.

She smiled at him. "These are delicious, Jolin, and a nice surprise to have my breakfast made, but you still look pale. I thought after last night you would take today off."

Jolin put down his folk, and cleared his throat. "About that…you tricked me yesterday, and made me look like a fool in front of that doctor. I'm not a child, Libero."

Libero took a sip of tea before meeting his determined glare. "I apologise, but the deception was necessary."

His eyes flashed with anger but when he opened his mouth to protest, she forestalled him. "I care about you, Jolin, so if you won't look after your own welfare - I will."

Jolin slammed his cup, spilling the contents over the table. He looked surprised at the brown liquid dripping onto the floor, and went silent for a moment. When he next spoke, there was hurt and disappointment in his tone. "If you'd just come clean and told me you were worried, I would've asked for the examination myself."

She rolled her eyes and smirked. "Would you?"

"Libero!" He yelled, exasperated. "Just…_just_ eat your pancakes." Jolin glowered, but when she reached over and patted his hand, he didn't pull away.

Jolin peered up at the clock, then rose from the table and reached for his stick. The scowl had gone and he gave her a wry smile. "I'll see you later, old woman."

She grinned, dismissing the address for what it was. A little bit of revenge for her sneaky behaviour yesterday.

He was limping towards the door when something occurred to her. "What will I do if your friend comes back?"

He stopped and gave her a puzzled look.

She got up from the table and came towards him. "Doctor Beckett. He told you he was coming back, remember?"

"Right…" Jolin's face clouded over and he started rubbing his forehead, "Well if he returns tell him I'm fine, and I've had a chance to think it over – I don't want his help."

"Jolin! I know you aren't comfortable thinking about your past, but to refuse his help would be foolish." She took his arm, and lowered her voice. "Please, at least hear him out. You are still a young man, Jolin, and to carry a disability when you don't have to would be madness."

There was silence for a moment, before he answered. "Fine…I'll talk to him, but I have a job to do. If he wants to see me, he'll have to wait."

The door slammed leaving her alone, and for the first time in a very long while, she wept.

She wasn't upset by Jolin's rebuke – she'd deserved it. What was breaking her heart was the knowledge that despite his determined words, Libero knew Jolin wouldn't be with her for much longer.

Unbeknownst to her at the time, the day he'd arrived on her doorstep turned out to be the happiest of her life since Shaule died. The joy he'd brought since, immeasurable. But his memory was returning, and now she knew Jolin…_John_ was meant for more than the life of a simple school teacher, it was only a matter of time before he returned to his real calling. She was going to miss him…

ooooOoooo

After a couple of days passed without the threatened visit from Beckett, Jolin felt himself start to relax. He wasn't so naïve as to believe the doctor wouldn't come, as he was pretty sure the guy was a man of his word, but at least the brief respite had given him time to process his feelings.

Jolin was still adamant that despite what he might ultimately learn about his old life, there was no way he was going to give up his new one. He made a difference here. Jolin believed the children were benefiting from his style of teaching, and he was also becoming involved in the community life of the village.

Unlike Kammel and the other able-bodied men he couldn't help with the physical chores, but he was pleased to help in other ways. He showed them simple methods to protect themselves, and how to strengthen the village defences in case they should be attacked by thieves or bandits, or these creatures called the Wraith. The name didn't ring a bell with him, but he'd gotten a weird tingling feeling when Libero described one to him. It spooked him at the time, but Jolin put it down to the fear even the name brought out in everyone.

It kinda disturbed him how he knew that kind of thing, just like how he'd known how to make pancakes, and something called a pizza. Yet regardless of his future plans, these quirks of memory told him something loud and clear. He wouldn't be able to get on with his new life, until he learned about and made peace with his past.

Once the decision was made Jolin wanted the damn visit over with, so he could put his past literally behind him and get on with the rest of his life. So was relieved when a knock on the classroom door revealed the man he'd been waiting on.

It was early evening, and the kids had gone home hours ago. The golden glow of the setting sun was streaming through the window, illuminating the desk where he was marking essays. "Hi, Carson, I was beginning to think you weren't coming back."

The doctor went scarlet, and his face grimaced slightly. "I'm sorry, Joh…Jolin. There was an incident resulting in several casualties. This is the first opportunity I've had to return. I called by the cottage but Libero said you'd be here – I hope you don't mind me visiting at your place of work?"

Jolin no longer cared about the delay or the interruption, after he heard the word casualties, he'd barely been listening.

"What happened – where there any fatalities?" Jolin asked instinctively. He couldn't remember the people he'd left behind, but there was a part of him still concerned about their welfare.

Carson came over, pulled up a chair and sat opposite him. The medic shook his head.

"No, thank God, but I was in surgery nearly fourteen hours patching up sergeant…"

Carson stopped mid sentence coughed, and gave him a sheepish look before continuing. "Anyway, I think given the situation with your memory we should leave the rest for another time. All you need to know is the laddie is going to be okay, but by the time I was finished, I was only fit for my bed."

"I'm glad you managed to save him…and thanks again for the other night." Jolin responded quietly. A flush rose in his cheeks, when he remembered how rude he'd been to the man who'd helped him.

Carson simply smiled as he opened his bag. "Okay, how about I have a look at that leg." He pulled on a pair of thin, almost transparent gloves and walked round to Jolin's side of the desk.

Jolin glanced over towards the door. "I thought you were bringing someone else with you?"

Carson stopped, and met his gaze. "Not this time. After giving it some thought, I decided to have a wee chat with you first."

Jolin was relieved at not having to endure another _blast_ from his past, but it was short lived as Carson started to unfasten the brace. He suppressed a wince as the medic eased it off and examined it. "That's a very neat brace – who made it?"

"I did…" Jolin muttered, "well it was my friend Kammel who built it, but it was from my design."

Carson put it to the side, and began manipulating the limb. Jolin could tell he was trying to be as gentle, but it still hurt like hell.

The doctor glanced up with a look of remorse. "I'm sorry, son…I'll be finished soon."

His leg was throbbing. The exam had barely begun but already beads of sweat were running down his face. His back was drenched, staining the white linen shirt he was wearing, making him hot and sticky as the material stuck to the leather back of the hard wooden chair.

Jolin bit his lip to stop from crying out, his knuckles white, as his hands clenched into tight fists against his lap. When Carson finished, it wasn't just his leg that was trembling. The limb was still aching even with the brace back on, but with the exam finally over, gradually Jolin felt the tension leave his body.

Carson got to his feet, pulled off his gloves and fired them in the trash can. "I think I'll be able to fix it, but I'm going to need to run more tests…which means you need to come back with me." The doctor's expression was fathomless, but his no nonsense tone didn't cut any ice with Jolin.

"No can do. I can't just leave my job, besides, I'm managing fine, Carson -" Jolin started to protest, but Carson interrupted.

"You're in pain, Jolin, and if the break isn't corrected soon it will only lead to further misery, and reduced mobility as you get older." The medic gave him a pointed look. "Do you really want that?" When Jolin didn't respond, Carson took his silence as consent and continued. "But first, we have to deal with those flashbacks you've been having."

Jolin felt the colour drain from his face, and his mouth go dry. "How did you know about those?"

"Well the first clue was when you collapsed after you saw me." The doctor rolled his eyes, and there was a hint of humour in the heavy accent. "When you were having a nap, I spoke to Mrs Libero, and she told me about the other episodes you'd had."

Jolin went silent for a moment. He was mad at Libero for shooting her mouth off, but after their conversation the other day there was no point in confronting her about it. In any case, the game was up.

"For the record she likes to be called Libero…but I don't get what the big deal is. Sure I've been having visions for a while now, but so what? It was bound to happen soon or later, but I'm coping with it." Jolin reasoned. "Anyway, it doesn't change a damn thing. Even if I do agree to get my leg fixed, my life is here now."

John heard the words leave his mouth, but when he caught Carson watching him, he knew the doc had already sussed him out.

Carson resumed his seat and delved back into his bag. "Your memories are coming back, and by the sounds of it they're overwhelming you. Why they're having this violent reaction, I won't be able to tell until I get you under the _scan_…but," Carson reasoned, "it could be you've been unconsciously repressing them for so long, that when they resurface your brain tries to resist them."

"So you think this is _my_ fault?" Jolin answered defensively.

"No…and I'm sorry if I implied that." Carson's expression was apologetic. "Like I said before it could be any number of things that are causing it, none of which you would be able to prevent. Regardless I don't want to rush them, so I'll not be bringing anyone until I think you're ready - but I think I might have an idea that will help." The doctor pulled out a set of six by four cards, and put them face down on the table.

Jolin went to pick them up but Carson put his hands on the cards, preventing him.

"I'm going to come every day with pictures, and sit with you while you go through them." Carson told him as he picked up the first one. "These first few are of people you knew well, friends. I'm going to show you them one at a time, tell you who they are and what their relationship is to you. But the first one I want you to see is a man you'll recognise. Someone you knew better than anyone - Lt Colonel John Sheppard."

ooooOoooo

Exhausted, all Carson wanted to do was grab a bite to eat then hit the sack, but when he walked through the event horizon there was a _reception_ party waiting for him.

Ronon had been sitting on the steps, but got up as soon as he'd appeared. Rodney on the other hand was standing looking over Chuck's shoulder. Carson suppressed a groan as Rodney rushed up towards him.

"Well?"

Carson didn't stop walking, but slowed his pace to allow the two men to tag along. He felt a bit like the pied piper. "Well _what_, Rodney?"

Rodney put a hand on his arm to stop him. "Did he remember me?" At Ronon's low growl, he grew red and stammered. "I mean _us_."

A small smile grew on the Scot's face. "It was a difficult session for the colonel, but yes he did recognise your faces – especially you, Rodney. Yours was the first vision he had."

"Really?" Rodney smiled, and it seemed to Carson that the scientist grew in front of him.

"Aye. One of the children was annoying him during class, when he suddenly saw your face."

Rodney's mouth fell open but no words came out, though Ronon made up for it. The Satedan's low chuckle filled the corridors, as the three men resumed their walk to the mess.

Carson felt guilty about being a wee bit sharp with Rodney, so he allowed his friend to take the last blueberry muffin. It had the desired effect, as with his mouth half-full Rodney mumbled. "How is he, Carson – did he ask about us? Atlantis?"

The Scot leaned back on the chair, and put down the sandwich he'd been eating.

"He's confused. He recognised your faces, but has no recollection of his connection with you." Carson answered sadly. "When I told him about himself, I thought he was going to pass out on me again. I think he was shocked what his role was, and how he'd been responsible for so many people."

There was silence for a moment as the three men just looked at each other. Carson knew none of them wanted to say what was on their mind - would John ever be the same man again?

It was getting late, and outside the window Carson could see that dusk had given way to a clear starry night. He didn't even try to suppress the yawn.

"That's it for me, lads. I'm off to bed." He swallowed the last of his coffee and dragged himself to his feet, amused at the expression Rodney made at the noise he'd made scraping his chair across the floor.

"G'nite, Doc." Ronon nodded, already looking over at what Carson left on his plate.

"I'll walk with you," Rodney told him, while grabbing his mug. "I want to check on something in the lab." Before he left the scientist turned to his old team mate, looking a little sad. "Goodnight, Ronon…I suppose I'll see you around."

The Satedan merely grunted, but Carson could see the look exchanged between the two friends. He knew the breakup of their team was hard on all of them.

They had only just left the mess when Carson stopped, as something suddenly dawned on him. "Where's Teyla and Elizabeth? I'm surprised they weren't with you."

"After the attack on our guys in Suvang, Elizabeth has gone to try and broker a peace treaty between the two warring factions. Teyla is helping her." Rodney explained.

Carson's expression clouded over. "They're not there alone surely? Isn't that risky?"

"Lorne and a squad of marines are with them." Rodney told him, but Carson could see his concern mirrored in the scientist's face.

"Right…well…I suppose that's -"

"Still dangerous?" Rodney interrupted, with a cynical edge to his voice. "Not according to Caldwell. Elizabeth suggested to our _illustrious_ military commander that his presence might add some weight to the talks, but guess what? He thought it was more important to hot tail it to the SGC as soon as he found out the Daedalus had been badly damaged in a fight with the Ori."

Carson privately agreed Colonel Caldwell's style wasn't the best, and he was concerned about the two women, but choose not to encourage Rodney's rant any further.

Unfortunately his silence didn't make any difference as his friend continued to seethe while making faces, all the way down the formerly quiet, lonely halls.

By the time he'd reached his destination he'd had quite enough of Rodney's tirade, and Carson was relieved when his quarters came into sight.

"Good night, Rodney – and don't be spending too long in your lab." Rodney narrowed his eyes, and Carson guessed his pal was wondering what 'hat' he was wearing.

It was a friendly warning, but a medical one none the less. If the scientist didn't take heed of his words, it was his job to take steps for his wellbeing. The fact was that both personally, and professionally, Carson was worried about him.

Ever since John had disappeared, especially after he'd been declared dead, it was as if Rodney had gone on a path of self-destruction.

To begin with he had barely eaten or slept, then when Caldwell took over, things went from bad to worse. For some reason the scientist seemed to relish goading the man. Of course it backfired - as Carson knew it would. Caldwell was not the sort of man to be messed with, and now Rodney had him breathing down his neck.

His room was in darkness, but Carson didn't bother thinking on the lights because he wouldn't be long out his bed. He slumped onto the bunk, and sat for a moment with his head in his hands.

Today had been hellish. Despite what he'd told John, Sergeant Hillis still wasn't out the woods and part of the delay in returning to Sheppard, was due to a second trip to the OR to repair an unexpected bleeder. Truth be told he hadn't wanted to leave the boy, but Keller said she would keep an eye on him while he returned to the planet. It was a difficult decision to make, but Carson knew the longer he left going back to see the colonel, the harder it would be to regain John's…Jolin's, trust.

When he'd first entered the classroom he'd started to wonder if he was doing the right thing. John looked as if he belonged there. He seemed content, happy even, and more relaxed than he'd ever seen him. Carson felt guilty that he was the one bringing stress and tension back into his life. Yet regardless of how he felt, he knew it had to be done.

Without help to control the violent, debilitating flashbacks, John's mental health would ultimately be impaired. Then there was the question of his leg.

Carson had told him he could probably fix it, which wasn't a lie, but there was still a doubt if the repair would be good enough for John to regain flight status.

His own head started to ache at the thought he could be dragging John back to his old life, only to deny him the thing he loved the most. He reached across, opened the bedside cabinet and pulled out the bottle of Talisker nestled within. For a moment he was tempted to down the lot, but with a patient on the critical list even a dram was out the question. He looked at the bottle with remorse, and reluctantly put it back.

Tonight of all nights he could have done with that drink, as he couldn't get John's face out of his mind.

The once confident, almost cocky commander had looked like a lost soul when he'd shown him the picture of himself. It had nearly broken his heart to see his friend trying desperately to comprehend who he'd been, and what kind of life he'd led. Of course, he'd hadn't gone into specifics. Carson would have hated to see what the fallout would have been if _Jolin_ found out about the Wraith feeding.

At the end of the session he'd left his friend pale and shaken, but at least Jolin hadn't passed out again, which Carson considered to be some sort of progress. Still, there were yet more surprises and faces Jolin needed to rediscover, not forgetting Atlantis herself.

In the interest of security, he'd agreed with Caldwell to leave that revelation until last. Carson didn't think for a minute that Jolin couldn't be trusted – he was still John after all. From his perspective, it was still prudent to allow the man to get his head around the easier reveals first. Atlantis was after all the cherry on the cake, and forcing him to comprehend the wonders in the Ancient city too soon, might just tip him over the edge.

He was about to pull off his radio, when an unconscious reflex dragged him to his feet and out the door. Carson was shattered, but his bed could wait. First he wanted to check on Sergeant Hillis...

ooooOoooo

TBC

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks again for the reviews, they mean a lot and give me so much encouragement!

So Carson is trying to ease Jolin's memories back and encourage him to return to Atlantis for treatment. I wonder how that's going?

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 9

Jolin looked at the small faces peering up at him, and got a lump in his throat. He loved his job, and was going to miss the kids – even Garven. At the end of the lesson the little boy proudly marched forward and gave him a card. Every child had signed their name, and the message from them all was the same – come back soon.

Preila had been sitting in on today's class, and before he left Jolin handed over the lessons he'd prepared for the next few weeks. He didn't know how long he would be out of action, but at least Bramal would have returned by then.

Jolin was nervous. Despite the reassurances he'd received from Elder Erlnne, he was worried he may not have a job to return to. He was apprehensive about leaving everything, and everyone he'd come to know to go to a strange place, amongst people who knew more about his old life than he did. Strangely enough the one thing he wasn't worried about was his upcoming surgery. He trusted Carson, and knew his leg and life were safe in his hands.

Libero wasn't waiting for him when he came in, and for a moment he wondered where she could be. A sound from his room sent him limping in to see the old lady carefully fold his white linen shirt, and put it on top of the bed.

"Libero what are you doing?"

He realised what a dumb question it was, and was surprised when she didn't respond with a comeback. Libero possessed a good sense of humour. It was a little on the sarcastic side just like his own, and was one of the reasons they got on so well.

When she didn't turn round, he came over and put his hand on her shoulder.

"I might have forgotten a few things, but I'm pretty sure I remember how to do my own packing." He smiled, but the lined face he'd come to know so well was solemn. The sad blue eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

Libero turned away, and proceeded to pick up a pair of his work pants. "I'm sure you can…but I want to do it. Let me have the satisfaction of doing this one last thing for you."

Jolin was mortified when she started to cry.

"Come here." He took the pants from her and folded her into his arms. He held her close, rubbing her back as she silently sobbed. "I'm coming back, Libero. Sure…things may be a little different once the memories become real again, but whatever happens I will come back. My life is here now – with you."

Libero's tearstained face looked up at him, with a question in her eyes. "Will you, Jolin?" She gently pulled away from his embrace, but took his hand. "I'd love that to be true, but I'm not going to hold you back. Regardless of your fine words, and I know you mean them, you have a destiny to fulfil."

"I'm not that man any more." He shrugged, and let go of her hand to walk over to look out the window. "Colonel John Sheppard was a soldier who thrived on action...but I don't want that kind of life. This village, teaching the children, enjoying a glass of ale with Kammel is all the excitement I need."

The old lady sat down on the bed. "Is it?" Libero smiled sadly. "The people who came to see you…your friends, all say what an important man you are. The woman Teyla told me you saved the lives of her people."

In the last ten days he'd had visits from all the members of his _old_ team. Teyla Emmagan, and two men called Ronon Dex and Rodney McKay. There had been another woman too, someone called Elizabeth Weir.

Carson had told him they were his friends. They seemed nice enough and the women were certainly very good looking, but although their faces were familiar he couldn't remember any thing about the memories they shared. Jolin had been especially curious about the women, but when he'd asked Carson if he were joined with either of them, the doctor had flushed scarlet and solemnly told him no.

Jolin limped over, put down his cane, and sat heavily on the bed beside her. He put his arm around the old shoulders. "If that's true, I'm glad." He gave Libero a squeeze. "But there's another man in charge now and I'm sure he's doing a fine job. So you see," he smiled, "even if I did want to pick up my old life, there isn't a place there for me now."

"Caldwell's a jerk."

Jolin and Libero turned round and saw the owner of the voice, Ronon, leaning on the door frame.

"Now, Ronon, Carson has told you not to speak that way in front of John…sorry, _Jolin_." Teyla came into the room and smiled.

Libero shuffled to her feet and extended a hand to Jolin. "I think it's time for you to leave, my boy."

Jolin took it, grasped it tightly for a second before letting it go. "Reckon so," he said sadly and wincing slightly, struggled to his feet. Teyla handed him his stick.

"Don't tell me he's not ready yet?" Rodney shoved past an annoyed Ronon, ignoring the dark looks the Satedan was throwing his way.

He stood watching Libero packing Jolin's meagre bundle of clothing into a white cotton drawstring bag, with barely concealed impatience "What do you want with that _stuff_ – you've got all your own clothes back at the base."

Jolin glared at him, but was spared from making a reply by Carson's entrance.

"Rodney – out!" The doctor pointed at him, and thumbed towards the door.

"Seriously? What have I supposed to have done now?" The scientist raised his eyebrows and looked to his team mates for support, but when no-one answered, he started muttering and walked, shoulders slumped, out the room.

The doctor then turned to the remaining team mates. "Teyla, Ronon – would you mind waiting outside? I'd like to speak to Jolin and Libero alone for a moment please."

"It has been an honour meeting you, Libero." Teyla came over and inclined her head. "I hope to see you again when you come and visit Jolin in the infirmary." The Athosian and Ronon then nodded towards Jolin, and left the room.

The doctor then put his bag down on the bed, put on a pair of gloves, and pulled out a syringe.

Jolin's face clouded over. "I don't want a shot."

Carson's expression was equally determined. "Look, lad. I know your headaches have improved, but today you're going to be confronted with sights that could trigger another attack. As your doctor, I'm not prepared to risk that."

Libero came over and patted his arm. "Jolin, I trust Carson. He hasn't failed you get, so why not let the man do his job."

There was an awkward silence as Carson loaded up the syringe with the contents from a phial, and Jolin grimaced when the needle slid into his arm.

Carson's voice softened as he put a small dressing on the tiny wound. "This will only take the edge off, so if something does trigger a reaction, you won't keel over like you did last time."

He wound down his sleeve while the doctor closed his case, then Jolin took his bag and put it over his shoulder.

"Could you give us a minute, doc?"

Carson nodded and smiled at Libero before leaving the room. Finally alone, Jolin reached out and gave the woman who'd saved his life a hug, and kissed the top of her head.

"You'd better come and see me, old woman." He gave her a lopsided smile.

Her eyes were filling up again, but she returned his smile. "Nothing will keep me away."

The two walked together out into the early morning sunlight, and Libero watched as John left the cottage behind to join the others. She followed his progress until he was out of sight. He didn't look back.

ooooOoooo

John Sheppard's return to Atlantis was planned just like one of his daring missions, with military precision.

The timing of his return was crucial. It was deemed prudent by Carson that only those he'd already met would be allowed access to the former commander, until he became accustomed to his surroundings. Therefore his arrival was planned for early in the morning while most of the personnel would still be asleep, or at their posts, leaving the corridors more or less deserted.

Yet despite all of these precautions John's gaunt face was devoid of colour, his eyes filled with fear as he nearly fell, shaking, as he stumbled out the jumper.

Elizabeth had been waiting anxiously, excited about the arrival of the friend she thought had been lost forever. She was nervous. Her arms folded so that no-one could see the tremors in her hands. When the moment came her instinct was to run forward and give him a hug, but at Carson's warning look she quickly changed her plan.

It took all of her self-control to push her shoulders back, and pin a nonchalant expression on her face.

"Welcome back to Atlantis, John." Elizabeth deliberately used his real name, as she wanted to set the right tone. She wanted her military commander back.

Her heart sank when it became clear John didn't even notice she had spoken, and barely acknowledged her presence as Carson guided him into a wheelchair.

Teyla came and whispered in her ear. "Do not worry, Elizabeth. I believe the journey here was a little difficult for him, but I am sure John will soon recover."

"Yes…yes, of course." She forced a smile on her face, but couldn't stop thinking how vulnerable he looked.

Expressionless, Ronon took the handles of the chair and with Carson by his John's side, and Teyla following behind, they walked away. Elizabeth had almost forgotten Rodney had been flying the jumper when he appeared, ashen faced, down the ramp.

"He's gone, Elizabeth - Sheppard's _gone_." There was a panicked edge to Rodney's voice, as he turned to her with wide, frightened eyes. "I thought when he saw the inside of a jumper again it would bring him back to his old self. I even hoped he'd bitch about my driving and demand to get his hands on the controls…but he just sat there and stared."

She was fighting the same fears herself, but refused to accept that the John she knew wouldn't return.

"Carson told us it wouldn't be a quick transition, Rodney." She patted his arm. "John's been through a lot during these last six months, and we just need to give him time."

"Do you really believe that?" he asked quietly.

"Yes…I do."

Even as the words left her mouth, they sounded hollow. She wanted desperately to believe them, but started to wonder if the reassurance she'd just given Rodney, was said to also give comfort to herself. At least John was home. Elizabeth only hoped that being here, in the city he'd given so much of himself to protect, John would soon remember Atlantis was where he was meant to be.

ooooOoooo

The storm was raging and he was drenched, but he raced through the city trying to save his friends from the man in the grey uniform. His rugged, pot-marked face was expressionless but his eyes were filled with malice, their intent as dark as the thunderous sky and the churning sea.

He couldn't allow him to kill them – or take his city. He was running across a room dodging bullets, as he heard the man roar at the sickening thud as each of his men were killed one by one. Then the man was holding Elizabeth captive in his arms. Her eyes were silently pleading for him to save her, before she was dragged through the gate. He was exhausted, angry, but he stilled his rage and kept his arm steady to take the perfect shot.

Then the image melted and he was in a stark, cavernous room tied hand and foot to a chair. It wasn't Atlantis, but the same man was there. He was speaking to him, but all he could hear was the blood roaring through his ears, as the white haired monster came towards him with an outstretched hand...

Confused and frightened, Jolin awoke to find himself sat bolt upright in a strange bed. His heart was racing and for a moment he wondered where the hell he was, then it all came flooding back. Slowly he eased against the pillows surprised to find them wet. His scrubs were drenched, soaked in sweat. Just like the man he'd seen in his dreams - him.

"You okay?"

Startled, Jolin saw Ronon coming towards him. The big man had been sitting in a chair at the foot of his bed but until now, he hadn't seen him.

There again, he hadn't been aware of much when he'd arrived. The craft they'd travelled in had triggered so many visions, bombarding his mind all at once, that even with Carson's sedative, he'd barely been able to deal. Afterwards he'd been happy to escape into a drug induced stupor, but now Jolin realised he needed to man up, and get a handle on all the emotions Atlantis was bringing to the surface.

"Want me to call Carson?"

Jolin realised that he hadn't answered, and the big man was looking worried.

"I'm fine. It was just a vision…well more of a nightmare really." Jolin reached for the water by his bed, surprised to find his hand shaking.

Ronon took the jug, poured a glass and handed it to him without comment.

"How long have you lived here?" Jolin downed the last of the water, and put it back on the cabinet.

Ronon moved his chair to sit by the bed. He leaned back and folded his arms. "Just over a year." He gave Jolin a wry smile. "I found it pretty weird too, when I first arrived."

"So you didn't arrive with the expedition then?" Carson had told him the basics. The knowledge that he'd agreed to come to another galaxy still surprised him.

Ronon expression became intense. "No – it was you who invited me here."

There was no answer to that as Jolin couldn't remember. He looked at the man by his side, racking his brain, but in the end it was Ronon who broke the silence.

"I'd been a runner for seven years…a hunted man. I'd been alone for so long I didn't think I could fit in anywhere anymore, but you took a chance on me. Atlantis is my home now."

"Right…" It was a dumb thing to say, but Jolin was pretty much speechless. A groan from the other side of the ward, got both men looking round.

He couldn't see past the curtain around his bed, but Jolin nodded over in the direction of the noise. "Who's that?"

"A guy called Hillis." Ronon grunted. "He got messed up bad during crossfire between two dumb tribes. Nearly didn't make it. He's still not good, but the doc hopes he's gonna pull through."

"Carson told me about him -"

"Get to sleep, Sheppard, you look beat." Ronon interrupted. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

Jolin protested. "You don't need to stay -"

In response Ronon just shuffled down the chair, laid his head back on the edge, and stretched his feet onto the side of the bed. Jolin couldn't understand why he was hanging around, but it was obvious nothing he said was going to make any difference. In any case, he had a feeling Ronon had done this before.

In the quiet of the ward he thought of his home and of Libero.

He missed the poky room where he normally slept. The small hole in the roof where he could see the stars at night, and the first blink of morning sun as it streamed into his room. Most of all he missed the old woman. Her comforting presence seemed to make everything right, and he wished she was there now. It would have made this weird place seem less strange somehow.

Ronon started to snore. It wasn't loud like you'd expect from a giant like him, and surprising it made Jolin smile. He stole a last glance at the man by his side and shuffled down the bed. Within minutes of nestling his head against the pillow, he was asleep.

ooooOoooo

There was an odd low thrum almost like static surrounding him, but it was a strange clicking noise that woke him up. Jolin flinched as he stretched out his bad leg, but hid his discomfort quickly when he saw Rodney sitting typing into some sort of device.

"Where's Ronon?" Jolin muttered, as he pushed himself further up the bed. For a moment he was startled when the back of the bed started to rise, then he saw Rodney pushing down on a smooth oval control.

When Jolin was at a more comfortable angle, Rodney showed it to him. "This makes the bed go up and down." The scientist told him in a matter of fact tone, before putting it within easy reach of his hand.

The childlike way he'd explained it tempted Jolin to retort with a comeback, but Rodney's expression was serious. He realised he couldn't blame the guy. After yesterdays performance, Jolin realised he must seem like a hick to these people – which in a way he probably was.

"Thanks..."

"Ronon's gone for breakfast." Rodney finally explained. "He said he'd bring you back some."

Rodney snapped shut the square device he was holding, and reached into a bag retrieving a chequered board. He laid it out on the bed and started to put funny looking pieces at either side. "Black or white?"

"Huh?" Jolin looked at him confused.

Rodney sat back, folded his arms and rolled his eyes. "I said…black or white. Or has your messed up brain made you colour blind too? It's chess, Sheppard – a _game_. Something I used to beat you at all the time."

Jolin raised an eyebrow. "If I was that bad, then why did I keep playing with you then?"

A chuckle at the foot of the bed made both men turn round to see Carson standing there, laughing.

"He's got you there, Rodney." Carson smirked, and smiled at Jolin. "If memory serves me I think you beat him the last time you played." He told Jolin, in a smug tone. Then Carson whispered loud enough for Rodney to hear. "He moped around the base, moaning about it for days afterwards."

"Did not!" Rodney mumbled indignantly.

Jolin's face cracked a small smile, which quickly faded when Carson produced a tray with a large needle and some tubing. "What's that for?"

"It's called an IV and yes, while it will sting for a bit I need to run a lot of tests, and its going to save a lot of injections in the long run." Carson was wearing his no nonsense expression again, but Jolin stared at him anyway. The small act of defiance somehow made him feel a little better.

Rodney cringed and looked away, as the doctor deftly pushed the needle into the back of Jolin's hand. It was him who had to suffer the short, sharp pain, but he was amused to see the scientist looking green around the gills.

Carson cleaned up the site, and secured the small piece of tubing with white tape. "All done. Now I'll leave you for a bit to have your breakfast."

Ronon was standing there with Teyla beside him. The small area was starting to get crowded, but Jolin was surprised he didn't feel overwhelmed the way he might have done before.

Between them they had a couple of trays loaded with hot drinks, a selection of fruit, something that looked like cereal, and a variety of baked objects. Rodney barely waited for the trays to land on the bed, before he grabbed a cake with dark bits scattered through it.

"Put that down! I brought that chocolate chip muffin especially for Jolin." Telya scolded him and sheepishly, Rodney returned it to the tray. She then put it onto a plate and handed it to him. "These used to be your favourite."

Ronon was grinning, and Jolin felt a little sorry for the smaller guy who'd gone scarlet.

Truthfully he didn't really want it, but as Teyla had gone to all that trouble, Jolin felt he couldn't refuse. He tentatively pulled off a piece of the cake and popped it into his mouth

A smile grew on his face as the soft, sweet taste exploded on his tongue. "This is _awesome_. Wow, I don't know how I could've forgotten something that tastes this good!"

Jolin greedily took another bite, but was so absorbed in devouring the cookie he didn't notice the others smiling at each other…

ooooOoooo

TBC

He's home! But will he stay?

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review.

I also want to wish a very happy Thanksgiving to all of you!


	10. Chapter 10

For those of you who celebrated Thanksgiving, I hope you enjoyed it! I hope everyone else has had a great couple of days too. And thanks again for the continued support for this fic - your reviews are awesome!

So...John is finally back in Atlantis, so how's our boy settling back in?

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 10

She felt like screaming, but knew becoming angry would get her nowhere. Elizabeth was only too aware that tack and a good deal of patience were necessary when dealing with the narrow-minded despots in the IOA, the trouble was she wasn't feeling either at the moment. John Sheppard was alive but could she get them to accept that – no.

Beckett's initial report had been more than concise. It clearly confirmed that the man in the infirmary was indeed the military commander who disappeared nearly six months ago, but it wasn't enough for the morons in charge.

They wanted more checks and countless scans, all of which were pretty much repetitious. At any other time the situation would have been inconvenient, but with _Jolin's_ mindset at the moment they were downright problematic.

John was getting antsy. He didn't like being cooped up, especially as he'd been there for over a week and there was still no sign of when his surgery would take place. At least Carson was nearly finished, so Elizabeth was pre-empting the good doctor's results, and was trying to make a start on the final report.

"Can I come in?"

Caldwell was standing inside the door, but Elizabeth had been so absorbed in attempting to keep the report professional, she hadn't heard him.

"Of course – I was just trying to keep the sarcasm out of my report." She pushed a hand though her hair, causing her curls to tumble down the side of her face.

The normally stern commander smiled. "Ah…Let me guess – the IOA? I take it they're still refusing to accept Sheppard's still alive?"

Elizabeth smirked. "You've obviously have had some dealings with the board."

Steven Caldwell came and sat down in the seat opposite. "Fortunately not too often, but they certainly do have a unique way of thinking." His smile grew wider. "Of course you know what this is really about?"

Elizabeth tilted her head slightly, puzzled.

Caldwell grinned. "They don't way to pay Sheppard six months back pay."

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?" Elizabeth shared the smile with him, then her face clouded over. "If only they knew John isn't like that." She sighed. "Money…material things, have never mattered to him. In fact it wouldn't surprise me if he told them to give it to charity."

"How's he doing?" Caldwell's expression grew concerned.

"Better." Elizabeth responded with a relieved look. "Carson tells me he hasn't had any more serious episodes, but he suspects John is having nightmares."

"That's hardly surprising considering what he's been through, especially since arriving in Pegasus." Caldwell responded evenly. "Did I see him out in the balcony earlier?"

"Yes."

Elizabeth smiled at the memory of the way John's eyes had lit up at the magnificent view over Atlantis. It was the first time he'd looked relaxed since returning. "He was getting stir-crazy stuck in the ward, so Carson asked him if he wanted to go out for a breath of fresh air. I think he was surprised John agreed."

"So am I." Caldwell muttered, leaning back against the chair. "How did he cope mixing with the rest of the expedition members?"

"He was pretty quiet, but considering how he was when he first arrived I think John coped well." Elizabeth looked at her new military commander. He seemed relaxed and apparently in a good mood, so she decided to take the bull by the horns."Steven…if he wants to stay, I'd like you to find a place for him here."

She didn't know if he was surprised at her using his first name, but there was an uncomfortable silence before he answered.

"Even if he is fit for active duty after his surgery, that won't be up to me." He gave her a tight smile. "Personally…I don't think it would be a good idea."

Elizabeth felt foolish. She hadn't expected such a blunt reply, but at least now she knew where she stood. "You didn't say why you wanted to see me."

The easy atmosphere of before was gone, and Caldwell sat bolt upright on the chair.

"It's just to let you know I've been recalled to the SGC for a while." He informed her. "The repairs to the Daedalus are going well but sadly Colonel McCallum, the man who'd taken over my position, has died from his injuries. Anyway…they want me to come back and resume command until they can find a replacement."

"What about Atlantis?" Elizabeth protested. "Don't we count anymore? We're out here alone - we need a military commander just as much, if not more."

Caldwell's expression hardened, and his voice took on the defensive tone she was coming to know only too well. "The Ori have started a major offensive and right now, the SGC need all the firepower they can get. Lorne's a good man. I'm confident he can cope with whatever comes up till I get back."

"Yes he is," Elizabeth agreed, "but what about the situation in Suvang? It's only a few weeks ago seven of our men were attacked during a simple meet and greet."

Caldwell crossed his arms and drew her a look. "That was regrettable." He shuffled in the chair. "However our men weren't the target. Unfortunately they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. In any case, I thought the two sides were close to signing a treaty?"

Elizabeth bent forward in her chair. "Yes, they are. But they seem to be dragging their heels -"

"Isn't that par for the course in this type of negotiation?" He interrupted, but didn't wait for a reply before continuing. "Like I said before, if there are any problems, Lorne is more than capable of dealing with them."

Caldwell got to his feet. "The decisions already been made, Doctor Weir. I just wanted to let you know I'd be leaving in the morning."

Elizabeth was furious at Caldwell's willingness to leave his post, but managed to keep the edge out her voice. "Very well then. Have a safe trip, Colonel."

Caldwell nodded, and strode out the room. She watched him leave, waiting until he was finally out of sight before leaning back and closing her eyes.

Not for the first time Elizabeth wished John had never returned to Andulanan that fateful day. She was happy, relieved he was still alive but the John Sheppard she knew was gone. The man in his place, Jolin, was just a patient in the infirmary.

The _old_ John would have fought the brass tooth and nail over a decision like this. He more than anyone was aware of the dangers here, and would probably have risked court marshal rather than leave his base without their military commander.

Elizabeth knew John was happy in his new life, and part of her was pleased for him. So did it make her selfish to want things back to the way they were?

ooooOoooo

"So tomorrow morning at seven sharp, I'll get you into surgery and sort that leg out."

Carson switched off the monitor and turned to the man sitting by his side. "I'll better warn you with the heavy pain meds, you'll be pretty out of it for the first few days. Then of course you'll be off your feet for at least eight to twelve weeks, with extensive physical therapy for a couple of months after that."

"Ronon and I will help with that." Teyla responded from behind. Jolin smiled at her and nodded towards the big guy, who just grunted.

"Well I suppose that leaves it to me to keep you amused then." Rodney stood back on his heels and folded his arms. "Which as we all know is the worst job – you're a pain the ass when you're stuck in the infirmary for long - Ow!"

"Why did you kick me?" The scientist rubbed his leg, and looked at Teyla with a wounded expression.

When the Athosian continued standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at him, his eyes grew wide and his face twisted. "_Oh_...Sorry, Sheppard. That was the old you - maybe things will be different since you've changed."

Carson covered his eyes and groaned. When he removed his hand he gave Rodney a sour look. "Rodney, son. Why don't you just shut up, before you dig an even deeper hole for yourself?"

While the snarking continued around him Jolin tried to remember, but all he got was the first bloom of a headache. The fact was he couldn't recall anything about Atlantis, or having been in the infirmary before, until he arrived nearly two weeks days ago. Still, from how he was feeling so far, he was pretty sure Rodney's assessment was bang on the money.

He was already pissed off with being stuck in the infirmary. So much so he'd dismissed his initial reservations about getting involved with a place where he didn't intend to return, and asked to look around.

When he'd first left the sanctuary of the ward his head hurt, but it wasn't the all consuming agony of before. What he'd discovered, the sights, the wonderful technology and the warmth of the people, had more than made up for the discomfort.

Atlantis was a beautiful place, awesome in fact, and it was hard to believe this had once been his home. It was weird but sometimes when he was alone, Jolin even thought he could feel the city calling to him – but that was crazy talk. He was so out his comfort zone, Jolin reckoned it was just a figment of his overactive imagination.

"He's right, Carson." Jolin eventually responded. The bickering stopped and everyone turned to look at him. "I can't remember being here before, but if the way I feel about being cooped up now is anything to go by, I reckon Rodney is right."

The scientist threw him a grateful smile, then smirked at the others. "_See_ – told you." Rodney nudged Carson in the ribs, but the doctor just rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, Jolin, if you want to take a last wee wander now's the time to do it," Carson suggested, "but mind someone needs to go with you, and _use_ the wheelchair. I don't want any accidents before tomorrow."

With his eyebrow raised and a wry smile, Carson turned to glance at the assembled group. "Right the show's over, so get out the lot of you – I've got work to do."

Jolin put a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "Thanks, Carson…and thanks, guys, for the offers of help, and for all the support you've given me since I've come here."

He hadn't wanted to come to Atlantis, or meet any of these people again. Now he was glad he'd had the chance to become reacquainted.

Telya smiled. "Whether you are Jolin or John Sheppard, you are and always will be our friend."

The heartfelt statement made him feel awkward, and Jolin felt the colour rise in his cheeks as he grabbed the back of the chair. He winced as the movement jarred his leg but before he could haul himself out, Ronon extended a hand. He took it gratefully, and accepted his cane from Rodney. "Thanks, guys."

Before he could say anymore, Teyla interrupted. "Would you like to see _you're_…John's quarters?"

It was the one place he'd avoided, but since arriving in Atlantis scattered images of his former life had returned with a vengeance. Some were in the form of flashbacks, of happy times shared with the people in this room. It was now clear how important they had been to him then, and Jolin was beginning to understand why.

Although what surprised him most was the way he'd felt when he'd gone outside for the first time. From the balcony not only had he been overawed by the magnificent skyline, but when he'd raised his eyes and looked into the clear blue sky, Jolin was consumed with such a deep longing to fly into its depths, it had nearly taken his breath away. He knew he'd been a pilot, Carson told him, but until that moment, Jolin had no clue what his former profession meant to him.

When they hit the visions left him a little dizzy, but apart from a mild headache, they weren't as debilitating as before. Others, like the horrific images that broke into his sleep every night, were a different story.

Their terrifying images filled him with horror, and left him shaking, drenched in his own sweat with his heart racing so fast, Jolin thought it was going to burst. Afterwards he was left spent, staring into the dimly lit ward until the early morning sun chased the nightmares away.

"Sheppard?"

At the sound of Ronon's gruff voice, Jolin realised he'd zoned out for a moment. He saw the three anxious faces staring at him, and he realised it was time. "Okay…let's do this."

With reluctance he got into the chair, but as soon as they were clear of the infirmary he motioned Ronon to stop. "If I'm going to be cooped up for the duration, I want to stand on my own two feet for a while."

"_Duh_…and everyone thought you'd changed." Rodney shook his head, wearing an incredulous expression.

Ronon helped him to his feet and put the stick in his hand, before pushing the chair off to the side.

He'd been languishing in bed so much since his arrival that his leg was stiffer than ever, but Jolin ignored the pain and shuffled beside Teyla along the unfamiliar route. As they turned the next corner a sensation, something akin to déjà vu, made him head straight for the second last door on the left. Without hesitation and much to the astonished expressions of the others, he automatically palmed his hand over an unfamiliar side panel, and the door opened.

His head spun as the room swayed but he held firmly onto the cane, and when the spinning stopped, Jolin was stunned to see evidence of his former life littered around the room.

The bag of golf clubs lying off to the side, brought an image of a stocky man with his hands around his adjusting his grip _"One hand slightly over the other, son. Keep your arms straight and your knees slightly bent…that's it. Now remember to hold your stance when you make the shot._" There was a woman watching from the window. She had dark hair and the same colour of eyes as his – his mother, but with deep sadness, he couldn't recall her name.

The poster on the wall conjured another image. He was at a concert watching Johnny Cash. Rock was his thing back then and he hadn't wanted to go, but his friends from the academy had dragged him along. He remembered sitting there, blown away by the Man in Black's rough haunting voice. When it was over he'd bought the poster at the concession stand on the way out. Wherever he'd been since, it was the first thing he put on his wall.

He turned ashen faced to the people standing by the door. "I don't understand. Why is all _this _still here? I've been gone for six months…"

"The IOA wanted her to empty the room, but Elizabeth wouldn't allow it." Teyla came to stand beside him, and put her hand on his arm.

"We never stopped looking for you, Sheppard." Rodney told him quietly. "Even after you were declared dead, we tried to keep the search going. I resurrected an old project of mine to hunt for naquada. It gave us an excuse to keep looking, but Caldwell stopped it when we didn't get results."

The scientist's expression hardened and his voice grew bitter. "I'm sure it was because the moron guessed what we were really up to."

"Leave no man behind…" Jolin said quietly, his voice cracking slightly.

Ronon came to face him. "And we wouldn't have, but we didn't know where you were."

Jolin slumped onto the bed and gazed around the room, before looking up at his companions. "Would you mind if I had a minute?"

"Of course, John, take as much time as you need." Teyla gave his shoulder a squeeze. "We will be waiting for you outside."

Jolin noticed for the first time since they'd met, Teyla didn't correct herself when she'd called him John. He needed to accept that regardless of what he chose to do with his life, where he chose to live, he _was_ John Sheppard – at least under the skin.

There was something else too, something that had been gnawing away at him but he hadn't been able to comprehend the feeling until now. He had felt abandoned.

Despite the care he'd got from Libero, and the welcome he'd received from the village, there had been a lingering sense of hurt and disappointment that no one came to look for him. He hadn't recognised it for what it was at the time but now he realised he meant something to these people, any delusion he'd had that he could simply walk away from them or Atlantis, was blown out the water.

Confused and burdened with conflicting emotions, he hauled himself off the bed and made his way outside.

"I'm starving." Rodney rubbed his stomach and looked at his watch. "I haven't had anything to eat since at least -"

"An hour ago?" Ronon smirked.

"Hardy har har – very funny." Rodney had to lift his chin to glare at the big guy. "You coming to the mess with us, Sheppard?"

Jolin picked at the scrubs he was wearing. "Sorry, but I can't."

"Oh, year - _sorry_, Sheppard. I forgot the voodoo doctor said you couldn't eat anything until after your operation." Rodney grimaced, and his face went scarlet. "You know what? I'm not really hungry after all, so as this is your last night of freedom, where do you want to go?"

He suppressed a smile. "I hope you guys don't mind but I'm kinda tired. I think I'll just head back."

Teyla took his arm. "Then we will accompany you."

"Honestly I'm good. I'll be fine on my own, Teyla." He smiled at her. "Please, go, do whatever you were going to do, and I'll see you before the op."

Colour flooded into her cheeks, and Teyla's pretty face turned scarlet. "I am sorry, John, but I am accompanying Elizabeth off world tomorrow. However it is just a diplomatic mission, and I should be back and sitting by your bed by the time you come out of surgery."

He shrugged, and tried not to let his disappointment show. "That's cool, Teyla. Just you and Elizabeth keep safe out there." Jolin turned to Ronon. "Are you going with them?"

The big guy nodded. "Lorne's running the mission, but yeah, I'm tagging along."

"That's good." Jolin couldn't find another word to say, but the relief he felt surprised him.

"Well _I'll_ see you tomorrow, Sheppard." The scientist turned to leave but hesitated for a moment. "Try and get some rest, okay?" Rodney looked at him with concern, then the sharp tone was back. "Right, take me to the mess! if I don't eat soon I'll be sharing the next bed to Sheppard."

Teyla's expression was amused as she shook her head at Rodney's retreating back, but she gave Jolin a final smile before following her team mate. Ronon however, was still standing by his side.

"I'll walk you back."

Jolin was going to protest, but one look at the big guy's face told him it was pointless. The two men walked in companionable silence until Jolin was safely back at the entrance to the infirmary.

It was still light, but the dying embers of the sun were casting a long shadow in the ward. Jolin was so deep in thought, at first he didn't hear the voice calling him.

"Colonel Sheppard…can I speak to you, Sir?"

Although he knew that was his title, it sounded unfamiliar to him. He no longer thought of himself as that man anymore, but as it was Hillis who was asking to see him, Jolin tried to assume the mantle the injured man expected.

"Hi, Sergeant, how are you feeling today?"

The young red-haired man beamed, and Jolin regretted not having come over to speak to him before.

"I'm good, Sir – going home tomorrow, but I just wanted to tell you something before I left."

"What is it…?" Jolin hastily looked for the name tag at top of the bed. "Gary. Just name it, and I'll do my best to make it happen." He wasn't too sure about that last part, but he would damn well try.

"I just wanted to tell you I'm glad you're back, Colonel. You were the reason I worked my ass off to make the grade to come to Atlantis, and no disrespect to Colonel Caldwell, but…the base just wasn't the same without you, Sir."

Jolin was speechless for a moment, but the young sergeant filled the void for him. "And could I ask you something, Colonel? The doc tells me I've got a long rehab in front of me, but when I'm done, would you consider taking me back?"

Hillis was looking at him anxiously, but with Caldwell now in charge even if he did consider resuming his career, Jolin knew he wouldn't be able to make that call.

"I'll tell you what, marine. Get well, work hard on your rehab and I'll see what I can do." It wasn't a lie because he would speak to Elizabeth about him. Still, Jolin was pleased the answer seemed to satisfy the young man.

"Yes, Sir!" Hillis saluted him, and Jolin returned it instinctively before returning to his bed.

Carson peered out of his office. "Are you okay, Jolin? Do you want something to help you sleep?"

Jolin eased himself onto the bed, and squirmed back under the covers. He looked up as Carson came over. "You don't have to call me Jolin anymore, Carson." He sighed, "I know to you I'll always be John…I'm just not sure who I am to myself at the moment."

Carson pulled up the covers the rest of the way, and lowered the bed. "Aye well, I dare say it must be confusing for you, son. But for the record I like both John and _Jolin_, so whatever you decide is fine with me."

"Thanks, Carson – you're a good friend."

Carson patted his shoulder. "Goodnight, John, I'll see you in the morning."

ooooOoooo

He didn't think he could sleep, but Jolin was rudely awakened by a commotion in the ward.

There was a flurry of activity as a group of marines, some walking wounding, others lying groaning on gurneys, exploded into the formerly quiet ward. Jolin wiped the sleep from his eyes and limped over to offer what help he could. "What happened?"

On hearing his voice Carson turned from the man he had been treating. Jolin's heart sank when he saw who it was bleeding from a gaping hole in his side – Ronon…

ooooOoooo

TBC

Was that a surprise?

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please, review!


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry for leaving you all on a cliffy - but I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. Thanks again for the reviews!

Okay...so its time to catch up with the gang. Ronon has been badly injured but where does that leave Teyla and Elizabeth - and Jolin? Time to find out!

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 11

Rodney wasn't built for speed, but as a member of Sheppard's team the regular life and death situations they faced had improved his fitness – running for his life was better than a workout in the gym anytime. Unfortunately too many months spent holed up in the lab had made him sluggish, so he arrived at the infirmary scarlet, panting for breath with sweat pouring down his face.

The scene that met him made his heart sink. It was organised chaos. Blood splattered marines filled every available bed with medical staff rushed off their feet, but there was no sign of Ronon, Beckett or for that matter Sheppard.

He gently grasped Marie's arm as she was rushing past. "Where is everyone?" Rodney realised it was a dumb question, but a harassed Marie answered without hesitation.

"Doctor Beckett has taken Ronon into surgery but Colonel Sheppard…" She looked around with concern. "I don't know. The last time I seen him he was talking to Captain Dolan." She nodded over the patient on the second bed.

Dolan was propped up on pillows with a heavy dressing over his left shoulder. His eyes were slightly glazed, a sure sign he'd been sedated, so Rodney rushed over before the wounded marine headed for dreamland. "I hear you were talking to Colonel Sheppard. Do you know where he went?"

The marine blinked, and struggled to focus. "The colonel?" He mumbled sleepily.

Rodney sighed, but tried to contain his impatience. "That's right, Colonel Sheppard. I'm looking for him. Do you know where he went?"

"He was asking me what happened…" Dolan yawned and his eyes started to close. Rodney was torn between giving him a nudge and walking away, when they suddenly opened again. "The mess. He was going to the mess."

"The _mess_? How the hell can he think about food at a time like this?" Rodney asked the question to no-one in particular, but when he looked down at the marine, Dolan was sleeping peacefully. He pulled up the covers and lowered his bed. "Get well, Dolan."

There was nothing else he could do around there, and with Lorne captured along with Elizabeth and Teyla plus Evan's second in command Dolan out of commission, Rodney reckoned it was up to him to save the day - but how?

Normally Sheppard would ride in on his mighty steed – or jumper – and stage a daring rescue in his usual gung-ho fashion, but until he got his leg fixed he could barely make it across the room. Besides John Sheppard, military leader extraordinaire was no longer in the building. Jolin was in his place, and Rodney didn't think a grade school teacher was going to cut it. Still, there was no one else around so after taking a moment to catch his breath, Rodney set out to find him.

It was the middle of the night Atlantis time, so the mess hall was deserted. Sheppard was nowhere to be seen either. A light in the kitchen accompanied by the sound of a certain familiar drawl, sent him into the inner sanctum.

Sheppard was standing with his sleeves rolled up, covered in flour, spooning something into paper cases.

"Hi, Rodney. Come to give us a hand?" John smiled over to Martha the head cook, who was taking a batch of muffins out of the oven before quickly putting in a new one.

"Seriously, John…_Jolin_, whatever the hell you want to call yourself – I don't get it. Our friend is in surgery – badly hurt. Our other friends are being held captive by a psychotic nut job who wants world domination…or at least domination of Suvang and you….you're baking! I know that you don't feel the same connection to us as you used too, but c'mon!" Rodney shook his head in disbelief.

Sheppard wiped his hands with a cloth, and limped round the table. He nodded to Rodney to follow him out the door. When they were out of earshot he explained. "I get how this must look but I have a plan. It's a bit risky and I'm going to need your help, plus Carson's, to pull it off."

ooooOoooo

"Is he going to be okay?" Jolin watched the normally powerful man composed in sleep. His face was deathly pale, almost as white as the swathes of bandages covering his body.

Carson checked the machines surrounded the bed, then closed the curtains around it. He ushered both men beyond them, before he spoke in a hushed tone. "Ronon is going to be fine. He was pretty torn up inside, but fortunately the bullet missed any vital organs. He did lose a lot of blood which we've replaced, but gut injuries take a while to heal. Ronon is going to be out of commission for quite a while."

The Scot then looked at the two of them and narrowed his eyes. "It's you two eejits I'm worried about. You -" He nodded to Rodney, "haven't let your lab for months and aren't fit for a run around the block, never mind taking on a mission like this. And **you,**" Carson folded his arms and stared at Jolin, "are scheduled for surgery. I'm sorry, son, but I can't allow you to leave the base in your condition."

Jolin stood up as straight as he could, and tried not to lean on his stick. "As far as the IOA is concerned I'm officially dead. I'm a visitor here. Anyway, as far as I'm aware a _ghost_ can go anywhere." He smiled to try and take the sting out his sarcastic remark, because Jolin knew Carson was just looking out for him.

"What about Caldwell? Couldn't he be recalled?" Carson persisted.

"He's away on manoeuvres, and General Hammond can't get anyone to fill the void until at least tomorrow." Rodney told him, and exchanged an anxious look with John. "By then it could be too late."

"Look, Carson…Lorne's been hurt. Dolan saw him go down with a blow to the head." Jolin's expression clouded over. "We need to get to him quickly. Plus this rebel faction is threatening to start killing hostages if we don't agree to supply them with munitions." Jolin's face hardened. "The two leaders who started this dumb war I don't really give a shit about, but Elizabeth and Teyla are also there."

Carson sighed, and scrubbed a hand though his hair. "Of course we can't do that…"

Jolin saw Carson wavering, and decided to press his point home. "I don't remember much about the protocols here, but giving the bad guys more weapons is never a good idea. Chances are they would probably wind up killing our people anyway."

After a moments silence, Carson spoke. "I think you're both mad, and I'm just as daft for going along with this, but what do you need?"

A smile grew on his face, and Jolin clapped him on the back. "Good man. First of all if the rebel leader makes contact with the base, I need you to pretend to be Colonel Caldwell."

"_Whit?_ You do know that impersonating an officer is an offence? I could be court marshalled!" Carson's face twisted, and his voice started to rise until he turned back and looked towards the closed curtains. "In any case, they'll know it's not me when I open my mouth." He continued in a quiet, but dubious tone.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Duh...they can't court marshal a civilian - I suppose you could get fired though." he muttered that last part, ignoring Carson's groan. "Anyway, that's not going to be a problem." Rodney smirked, then at Carson's confusion he explained. "Our illustrious leader thought broking a deal between two small warring factions on a rural planet was beneath him – they've never met the man."

Carson looked as uncomfortable as Jolin had ever seen him…or remembered seeing him. He was starting to think he and Rodney would have to revise their plan when the medic finally spoke.

"Aye…okay - I'll do it. Is there _anything_ else while I'm at it?" Carson voice was cynical, as he stood back on his heels, glaring at them.

"I need sedatives." Jolin asked using his best poker face.

Carson's sharp intake of breath was followed by a coughing fit. Rodney rushed to give him a glass of water, while Jolin ushered him to a seat. After he took a sip, the Scot looked up, incredulous. "Now let me get his straight…John Sheppard is _asking_ for a sedative?" He shook his head and mumbled. "I never, ever, thought I would see the day."

Jolin rolled his eyes. "Not for me, Carson."

He pulled up a chair and took the weight off his leg. "You're right, Carson. I'm in no shape to man an assault, anyway, I wouldn't know how." Jolin saw he had the Scot's attention, so continued. "The way I see it sending in more soldiers would be pointless, as according to Dolan they have guards waiting by the gate. Our men would be sitting ducks."

Carson sat back against the seat and folded his arms. He looked concerned. "And how exactly are a teacher with a gammy leg, and an overweight scientist going to bring down a small army?"

Rodney interrupted, "_Hey_ – I'm not overweight...just well built." But his resentment quickly disappeared, and his eyes went wide with excitement. "Sheppard's plan is so simple, it's ingenious! I just wish I'd thought of it -"

Jolin sent Rodney a warning look to let him finish. "The plan is I pose as a trader and go through the gate with some poisoned apples. _Sorry_ - wrong fairy tale."

He raised an eyebrow and gave the medic a crooked smile. "Anyway, Martha has been baking up a storm but I need something to give the cookies a _kick_. If we can feed them drugged cookies, hopefully the sedatives will put the bad guys out for long enough so Rodney and I can stage a rescue without meeting any resistance."

Carson mouth twisted, and he squirmed in his seat. "I'm not happy about this – it's too risky. What if something goes wrong?"

Jolin shrugged. "Sure... it's not without some risk, but the way I see it the guards will be looking for men in uniform, not a baker on his way to market."

"I suppose." Carson muttered, but didn't sound convinced. "I'm not happy at you lads going alone, but I don't want to leave Ronon until I'm certain there aren't any complications."

Jolin suddenly remembered the man on the bed, and his face clouded over. Even though Ronon was in the best hands he didn't want to leave either, but his other friends were in danger, so he needed to put his feelings aside to get them to safety.

He turned to the doctor. "There's just one more thing, Carson - where's my clothes?"

ooooOoooo

Jolin was twitchy as he watched Rodney make his way towards the pilot's chair.

He could see the scientist looking at him concerned, and Jolin had no doubt he was remembering the last time they'd flown together. He'd been a wreck then, but things had changed. Now Jolin was overwhelmed with a desperate need to pilot this craft. His mouth was dry, and his fingers itching as he turned to the man at his side.

"I know this isn't the time, but I'd like you to show me how to fly this bird."

In response Rodney immediately rose from the chair and waved him in. "The John Sheppard I know would never forget how to fly." At Jolin's hesitation, he smiled without any of his usual snark. "Go on - give it a try."

With a mix of nerves and excited anticipation Jolin eased himself into the seat, and immediately sensed the craft respond to his presence. It felt like he'd come home. And home was an awesome place which filled him with elation. A joy he'd never felt before.

The journey was amazing, everything he'd thought it would be and more, but it was far too short for Jolin's liking. Once everyone was safe he intended to take this baby out for a real spin, hopefully before he went under the knife. In the meantime he landed the craft smoothly, and ignored Rodney's smirk as he made his way into the back.

Jolin started looking around. "I'm going to need a firearm."

Rodney reached into the box under the bench and produced a 9mm. "Do you remember how to use one of these?"

With unconscious ease Jolin released the clip, checked it, and snapped it back in. "Hopefully I won't have to find out."

He put it into the waistband of his pants and pulled his white linen tunic over the top, then turned to his friend. "Now let's go over the plan one more time."

"Again?" Rodney complained with a hurt tone.

"Just one more time, buddy…please?" Jolin persisted gently.

"You're going to get a loan of your friend's cart and go through the gate as Mr Doughboy. Then I follow right behind you in a cloaked jumper and locate where Teyla, Elizabeth and Lorne are. You start handing out cookies, and once the baddies go the land of nod, we get our people out of there. The leaders too…But how can we be sure they weren't on the rebellion?" Rodney raised worried eyes to meet his. "That's the only part of the plan that bothers me."

He shared Rodney's concern, but tried to remain positive. In any case, what choice did they have?

Jolin shrugged. "Dolan told me the rebels were a relatively small group. The only reason they did so much damage was because of the element of surprise. If we can put them out of action, I'm hoping the two guys in charge of the motley crews will step in and clean up their mess."

Rodney slowly nodded, but made no further comment. He delved into his pocket. "Here you'll need his." Rodney handed him a device, and showed Jolin how to put the radio over his ear. "Just tell me when you're ready to go. Good luck, John."

"You too, Rodney."

Jolin started to make his way down the ramp, but stopped before he reached the end. He looked at his friend.

"When I found out I'd asked a scientist to be part of my team, I wondered why. Now I know. You're a good man to have around." For a moment Rodney looked stunned, then a slow smile grew on his face. Jolin returned it before leaving him behind.

It felt strange returning to the village, and certainly not the way he'd thought it would be.

When he'd left for Atlantis only a couple of weeks before it had been with reluctance, desperate for the day when he could return to his new life for good. Now, although everything was just the same as he'd left it, he wasn't, and Jolin felt awkward about returning to the place he knew so well.

A decision would need to be made about his future, and soon. Jolin knew it, but this wasn't the time. First he needed to save his friends. Granted, he still couldn't remember much about his old life but one thing was clear. They hadn't given up on him and he sure as hell wasn't going to let them die.

ooooOoooo

Libero sensed his presence before she even turned round. It wasn't time for his return, it was much too early, but regardless of her concerns she couldn't keep the smile from her face. "Jolin…"

The handsome young man who had come to mean so much grinned, and enveloped her in a hug. "How are you, old woman?" He released her, but his gaze searched her face.

"Less of the old…and I'm fine, thank you." She gently chastised him, then her smile faded slightly. "What's wrong, Jolin? I can see your leg isn't healed so why have you returned so soon?"

Jolin started to chew his bottom lip, a habit she knew only too well. He wasn't a man to openly display his concerns, but it was a sure sign something was bothering him. Over the next twenty minutes she found out why.

"Is Kammel going with you?"

John sat back and folded his arms. "No. He wanted too, but from what I've heard about these people, Kammel's size would be perceived as a threat. I didn't want to put him in danger." He gave her a wry smile. "They aren't likely to bother with a cripple."

Well you're not going there alone – I'm coming with you." Libero rose from the table where they had been sharing tea, and started to search through her cupboards.

Jolin jumped up, but he moved too quickly and groaned as he jerked his leg. "The hell you are! No way, Libero! I am not putting you in danger. There is already too much at stake at it is – I don't want to risk anyone else."

His words, innocently spoken, told her more of what was in his heart than Jolin dared to admit to himself. Her fears and suspicions had been confirmed. Jolin had been reclaimed by his old life – he just didn't know it yet.

Libero suppressed her feelings, and the face she turned to him was composed and determined. "I'm coming, and that's the end of it."

When he opened his mouth, Libero forestalled him. "Be sensible, Jolin. A baker with a limp like yours – no one will believe it. But a son who comes to help his mother…that is a much more convincing story."

He stared at her for a moment, but Libero didn't flinch and eventually turned her back on him to start putting small coloured bottles into a bag.

He shook his head. "Nothing I say is going to make any difference, is it?"

"No, it isn't. Right, I'm ready." She said, walking past him. "Are you coming?"

Jolin followed her, but stopped her at the door and turned Libero round to face him. "Okay, you can come , but these people are dangerous so when I give you an order, I want to follow it – understand?"

With one short statement Jolin was gone, and John Sheppard the brave military leader, was back.

Libero was filled with a sense of loss, but also with overwhelming pride. Jolin/John, were two sides of the same coin. One a soldier, the other a teacher, only fate had decreed which path he should take. Regardless, he was still the same man inside and she loved him.

He was still looking at her waiting for an answer, and she reached up and gently stroked his cheek. "Of course, my child. Now shall we go and save your friends?"

ooooOoooo

TBC

Well Jolin is going on a mission...with Libero! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review!


	12. Chapter 12

So did I put you in the mood for cookies? But not of course the kind Jolin was taking with him! And thanks again for all the reviews - you guys are awesome!

Well on with the mission. I wonder what kind of trouble Jolin and Libero can get up to?

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 12

"Now what do we have here?" A stocky, bald headed man stuck a gun in his face, forcing Jolin to stop. He'd taken his time coming out the 'gate to give Rodney an opportunity to get the jumper though, and was pleased when he sensed the Ancient craft fly past.

"We're here to sell our goods at market. See -" Libero answered with a tight smile, throwing back the tarpaulin cover to show him the baking stored in the cart.

"You stupid old woman, there is no market here." The man smirked, and the guard opposite followed his companions lead by sneering.

Jolin's mouth twisted and he looked at Libero with frustration. "Didn't I tell you, mother, but no, you never listen to me…Hey – I hope you're going to pay for that!"

The guard had rammed a whole muffin into his mouth, and crumbs were spilling down his chin. With a malicious grin he opened his mouth to reveal the remaining cake to Jolin, before grabbing him and throwing him off the cart.

He hit the ground hard, and yelped. His bum leg had got the brunt and for a long moment Jolin could only lie there, groaning through gritted teeth, as the fierce pain travelled up and down his damaged limb.

"Jolin!" Libero scrambled off the seat and wobbled uncertainly, as she nearly lost her footing getting off the cart. When she reached him she put his head gently on her lap, cradling him.

"_Thank you_ for such a generous contribution to our cause." The guard threw back his head and laughed. "These will make a welcome change to the swill our cook makes."

He towered over Jolin grinning, making a show of popping another muffin into his mouth before turning to his companion. "Take the cart into the camp."

"You foolish boy." Libero whispered to Jolin as she swept the hair off his flushed face.

Tears were stinging his eyes, but he forced a smile on his lips "But I sold it – didn't I?"

"Sold it? You nearly got yourself killed!" Libero chastised but continued holding him close, rubbing small circles on his back.

When the cart was led away the guard staggered back towards them. He was shaking the bag Libero had left behind the seat. The bottles inside rattled. "What's in here?"

"Tonics." Libero spat out, glaring at him from the corner of her eye. "I'm also a healer." She stared up at the guard's bald head. "I have one for hair growth. Would you like to try it?"

Jolin reckoned the man must be dumb, or had already lost his wits due to the sedative, because he didn't hear the menacing tone in the old woman's voice.

The guard shakily rubbed a hand over his head, and handed the bag to her. Libero avoided looking at Jolin while delving into the bag. She pulled out a small purple bottle and handed it over. "Just take a few sips…"

The man grabbed it nearly pushing her to the ground and with a grin, immediately downed the lot. His expression froze as he grabbed his throat. He stared at her in disbelief as his face went bright puce, before he fell flat on his face.

Libero went over and placed her hands on his neck. The man was dead. "I did tell you only a few sips." She muttered into his ear then scrambled back to her feet. When she saw Jolin's ashen face, her expression grew anxious. "Can you walk?"

He nodded, but in truth Jolin didn't know. His leg hurt like a bitch and even with Libero's help, the small act of sitting upright was a struggle. He flinched as she pulled up the leg of his pants to examine the damage. There was scuffed mottled skin all they way from his thigh to his knee. The brace had snapped at one side, and a piece of the broken metal had torn into the skin leaving a gash in his leg.

"Here, take this." Libero reached into her sack and brought out a brown bottle.

Jolin rolled his eyes. "How much should I take?" He nodded over at the dead guard.

Libero shrugged and retorted in a matter of fact tone. "He didn't do as he was told. Go on - take a large gulp." She encouraged. "It will help deaden the pain without making you drowsy."

Jolin didn't hesitate but nearly choked, as the sour, rancid tasting liquid slid down his throat. His face contorted. "Shit…that's something else – what the hell is that stuff?"

The old woman smiled at his expression, but said nothing. Jolin went silent while she ripped up thin strips of her underskirt and began to bind the wound. "How long did Doctor Beckett say it would take for the sedative to take effect?"

That was the part of the plan which worried him most. Beckett couldn't be precise as to how quickly the sedative would work. He'd warned him the drug would lose some of its potency, as the tranquilising effect would be diluted by the dense nature of the muffin.

"Twenty minutes to half an hour?" Jolin told her, but it was a ball park figure. "I'm going to give it that anyway before we make our move. Will you help me get this guy out the way before his buddy returns?"

The potion might have tasted hellish, but it had taken the edge off. His leg was still throbbing but there were people who were depending on him so sucking it up, Jolin managed to get on his feet. How long he could stay there was under debate but he tried to block out the pain, and with the old woman's help dragged the guard and hid him behind some rocks.

He gave the dead man a last look and with his palm closed the lifeless eyes. He turned and raised an eyebrow at Libero. "Remind me never to piss you off, old woman."

"He did that to himself, Jolin." She muttered solemnly. Her mood quickly changed as she ruffled his hair, and gazed at him with affection. "As for you. You can be a pig headed awkward man at times, but even at your worst, you could never be able to do that, my boy."

ooooOoooo

Lorne's eyes were glazed and unfocused, but he insisted on shuffling until he was sitting upright. "I can't just lie here." He squirmed, tying to resist Teyla's firm grasp. "This is my fault…I should have protected you…got you out of here…prevented Ronon getting shot."

"You need to keep still, Major." Teyla kept her hand firmly on Lorne's chest to stop him from moving any further up the rough stone wall. "You have a concussion, and if you move about it will only make the nausea worse."

Elizabeth broke off her conversation with the leaders of the two factions and came over to join them.

"Now listen to me, Major." She got his attention using a quiet but determined tone. "There is nothing you could have done to stop this. Even Counsellor Flavene had no idea a splinter group within his army were plotting against him. In any case, even you don't have eyes at the back of your head. " Elizabeth smiled sympathically, wincing at the sight of the blood stained dressing around his forehead.

"And Ronon will be getting cared for by Doctor Beckett." Teyla added. "So please…keep still and let us take care of you."

Lorne squirmed, his dark expression making his pallid features look even more sickly. "Doctor Weir, if I don't do something, someone in this room will die in a few hours." His voice cracked slightly. "If anything happened to you or Teyla...I don't know if I could deal with the guilt -"

There were being held in a cellar beneath the council chambers and at the sound of the stout wooden door creaking open, Lorne went quiet. All of the assembled group anxiously looking towards the entrance.

"Well…what are you waiting for – Christmas?" Rodney stood in the doorway wearing a smug expression. When everyone continued staring at him. "And…you're still standing there. _C'mon._ Chop, chop - let's get moving." He came over and helped Teyla shoulder Lorne to his feet.

"Rodney it's good to see you, but how?" Elizabeth knew with Caldwell temporarily reassigned and the only other ranking officer captured along with them, their situation had been grave.

She had been praying for the best, but preparing for the worst. She thanked the Lord her prayers were answered.

Rodney's eyes lit up. "Well I did have a _little_ help…"

"John!" Elizabeth and Teyla called out at once at the sight of Sheppard standing in the entrance.

Lorne gave his old CO a weak smile. "It's damned good to see you, Colonel."

"I'm glad you guys are okay." Jolin was wearing his trademark lopsided smile, but he was looking at his former XO with concern.

Elizabeth looked out into the hallway beyond. There was no sign of any guards. Or any other sound apart from the noise their party were making in the cellar.

"How did you - _what_ happened?" Elizabeth stared at his leg. There was a deepening red patch on his pants, and he was leaning heavily on his cane.

"They'll be time for a question and answer session later." He told her, with one eye on the door. "Right now we need to get out of here before the bad guys wake up." Jolin motioned to Rodney who acknowledged his instruction with a nod, and led his friends away.

Rodney suddenly stopped and called over his shoulder. "Don't be long, Sheppard."

"I'll be right behind you." Jolin assured him, before going over to the two leaders.

"I'm assuming it's your men I found locked up down the hall?" John threw them the keys. "If I were you I'd get them out, and round up the rebels before they come round."

The men had stood quietly watching the unfolding events, with both surprise and a little concern. Even now they were looking at Jolin's casual attire with curiosity.

"Thank you, Sir." The smaller of the two men extended his hand. "I know I can speak for both of us when I say how deeply sorry we are for what happened." The man sighed, and his face flushed scarlet. "Regrettably it was an outspoken member of my council who caused this outrage. I can assure you he will be severely punished. In the meantime, I can't thank you enough. Who am I addressing?"

Jolin's mouth went dry and he hesitated for a moment. "Lt Colonel John Sheppard."

ooooOoooo

His hand was vigorously shaken by both men, and John swayed slightly. The pain in his leg had notched up during the walk from the 'gate, and now the traitorous limb was trembling. He was relieved neither man seemed to notice as they said their farewells, and made their way outside.

In the silence of the empty room he realised that in his instinctive response, he'd made a decision. Jolin was gone - left the building, and John Sheppard of Atlantis was back. Except with no job to return to, and the remaining uncertainly about how well his leg would heal, John didn't know if he would even be allowed to continue the only other thing that could tie him to Earth – flying.

With no Atlantis to protect and without flight status there would be no future for him there, at least none that mattered. With his memories still patchy and his future still undecided, John headed towards the exit with his heavy heart only lightened by one thing. If he never returned, if he never got another chance to make a difference, at least he'd managed to save his friends.

Carefully picking his way along the dimly lit corridor, John side stepped the sleeping men as he went. One man was snoring. It was a deep, thunderous ear-splitting sound, made more surprising by his size. The guy could only have been just over five feet. John was still smiling at the incongruity of it when he heard a bang, and felt a thud in his back.

He staggered, staring bewildered at the red stain growing on the front of his shirt before the fiery pain finally hit. The blackness came before he hit the floor.

ooooOooo

Libero watched anxiously in the strange craft. It made her nervous, even a little frightened. Invisible on the outside but metal within its depths, she would normally assume it to be the work of the devil, but she was confident Jolin wouldn't be involved with the dark arts. Without reservation she'd trusted him when he'd asked her to walk into the shimmering void. She'd been surprised, when after her first faltering footstep to find her shoe touch something solid.

Jolin was hurt and she'd wanted to go with him, but he'd ordered her to '_stay_ _put'_. Libero had being going to protest but there was a determination, a strength that she hadn't seen in the hazel eyes before.

He'd always been strong-willed but this forceful person was new to her. In the end she'd complied with his request because she'd made him a promise, that, and the smaller man – Rodney - the one who talked incessantly, was with him. Libero had tried to push her fears to the side, but as the small party approached without Jolin in sight, they rushed back with such a vengeance she feared her heart would burst.

"Where is he?"

At first Libero though her words had fallen on deaf ears as Rodney and the woman called Teyla, helped another man onto the bench.

Elizabeth looked out anxiously into the deserted courtyard. "He should have been behind us…something is wrong. We must go back."

"Damn it! Why does Sheppard keep doing this?" Rodney muttered as he followed Elizabeth's gaze. "It was all going just fine until Captain Courageous decided to stay behind to help those morons clean up their mess."

Rodney slammed his fist against the wall of the craft. He winced, staring at the bruise growing on his swollen knuckles, before testing his digits and shoving his hand under his armpit. "I'm going back." He said finally and moved quickly towards the ramp.

"Not without me…" Lorne scrambled to his feet, took one step forward and fell unconscious to the ground.

Elizabeth ran to the major's side. "Go. Take Teyla with you – I'll take care of Lorne."

"I'm coming too." Libero said calmly, but with determination. "Jolin is like my son and you will _not_ keep me from his side."

Rodney and Teyla shared a look. "Let's get going then… I just hope we've got it wrong for once." Rodney muttered the last part, but his words sounded hollow. Libero's heart sank when she noticed no one disagreed with him.

For once Libero wasn't aware of the aches in her old bones as she followed on, anxiety giving her legs the speed they hadn't possessed in years. It was hard to see inside the dim narrow corridor but when her eyes adjusted to the gloom, the sight ahead nearly took her breath away.

"Put the gun down – now!" Teyla's eyes flashed with anger as she targeted her gun at the man looming over John's quiet, motionless form. The man stared up with fear, looked at the weapon as if it was burning his hand, and threw it to the side.

"I did not do this terrible thing." Flavene protested flustered, as he pointed to the lifeless body of a blood-spattered man lying just a few feet behind him. The dead man had a hole through his head.

"It was this man. His name was Selenin, and it was him who led the revolt." Flavene scrambled to his feet and approached the small party. "Shortly after Colonel Sheppard left the cellar I heard a noise. When I looked outside I discovered Selenin hiding in the shadows and gave chase. He eluded me and then I heard the shot…I am so sorry I didn't catch up with him before _this._" His expression was full of remorse.

Libero was shocked at the amount of blood staining Jolin's white shirt. She rushed forward fell to her knees, and with trembling hands searched for a pulse. When she removed the hand that had supported his back, it was bright red.

"He's alive – but barely. Give me my bag, child." She nodded to Teyla who locked eyes with her, but after only a moment's hesitation, handed over the white cotton sack.

Rodney had gone quiet, but even in the poor light Libero could see the fear in his blue eyes. The scientist just stared transfixed, at the gaping hole in Jolin's shoulder.

She delved into the bag, scattering bottles of all shapes and colours onto the ground until she found the one she needed. Libero began to open the small yellow glass bottle when Teyla put a hand on her arm. "I know you care for him, but what are you doing?"

Libero didn't have time for this, but her irritation was tempered by the knowledge Teyla was only concerned about her friend. "I may not be trained like your Doctor Beckett, but I am a healer. Jolin's wound goes from the back and out his shoulder. He has lost too much blood already, and this," she shook the bottle, "will encourage the blood to clot…I just hope it will be enough to keep him alive until we can him the help he needs."

The words seemed to satisfy as Teyla released her hand, and helped Libero administer the thick black liquid, drop by drop, into the two ragged wounds. After an agonising moment they both watched as the seeping wound became a trickle, and then stopped altogether.

When Teyla handed her a substantial looking dressing from her vest, Libero nodded her thanks. She was only too aware that on this occasion, her underskirt would be insufficient for the job.

The sound of booted feet and a familiar brogue heralded the aid so badly needed, and Libero could have cried when she saw Carson Beckett rush towards them. Yet she couldn't let go...

"Its okay, love, you can leave him to me now." Carson told her, giving her gnarled shoulders a gentle squeeze. "I'll take good care of Jolin."

"His name is John. It always was…he just needed to find himself again."

Libero's whisper was barely audible, but the doctor heard and simply nodded. They shared a look of understanding before she moved aside, releasing her precious cargo into his hands.

In the background Libero heard the sound of protests from the waking rebels as they were rounded up and locked away, but in their small circle no-one spoke, apart from the man who was trying to save John's life.

Carson spoke to the still, broken figure to try and rouse him, but John didn't respond. He asked Teyla to hand him strange looking instruments out of his bag, pushing needles into John's body. One of them was attached to a long clear tube curling like a giant serpent into the back his hand, but still her beloved boy didn't awake.

Libero had always expected to lose him one day, but not like this. Deep down she'd always known it was too good to be true that such a man would stay in their small village – stay with her. Now all she cared about was that he lived. If he died, she didn't know how she would bear it.

ooooOoooo

TBC

I know...another cliffy, but I hope you enjoyed it. And please review!


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks again for all the reviews, and sorry for leaving you on another cliffhanger.

Now on with the story!

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 13

Elizabeth left the two marines standing guard, while she went to join Rodney and Libero.

Rodney barely acknowledged her presence. The scientist was pale and clearly shaken, unable to look away from the horrific sight of his friend lying deathly still in a pool of blood. Libero was undoubtedly in shock. The old lady was trembling, her normal health pallor tinged with grey. Elizabeth took off her jacket and slipped it around the bony shoulders. Libero turned to face her, the sad wrinkled blue eyes were filled with unshed tears.

"I've done all I can here." Carson muttered to no-one in particular. The doctor grunted while scrambling to his feet.

"Teyla told me about that clotting agent you used." He addressed Libero. "I'd like to find out what's in it. John isn't out the woods yet, but I'm pretty sure your potion might just have saved his life."

The old lady barely blinked, and Carson whispered something to Teyla. As the marines came and carefully loaded John onto the stretcher, the Athosian went over to the old lady and gently led her away.

When the sombre procession moved off, Rodney turned a puzzled face to Elizabeth. "How did Carson and the marines get here?" I'd expected to slip a disc maybe two, getting Sheppard back to the jumper – he's not as light as he looks." At Elizabeth's wordless stare, his face went scarlet. "Not that I would have minded…of course."

Elizabeth let the remark go. She'd known Rodney a long time and the scientist had an unhappy knack of saying the wrong thing. Privately she called it 'foot in mouth disease'. Nevertheless despite his shortcomings, Rodney was a good man without a malicious bone in his body.

The sight of finding her friend close to death had left her shaken too, so she drew in a steadying breath before she told the story. "Lorne regained consciousness soon after you left and insisted on flying home. To be honest I didn't dissuade him, but let's just say it wasn't one of his _better _landings." She rubbed her neck, and winced. "Keller, the new doctor, is taking care of him now."

Fortunately it wasn't far from the jumper, and the small group watched anxiously as John was loaded on board. Carson stuck close to his patient the whole time, barking orders, making sure nothing impeded their progress, or snagged the IVs delivering vital fluids to his body. Once John was settled, the doc knelt down by his side. Teyla sat on the bench with her arms around Libero's shoulders, but the old woman just stared. Unable to take her eyes off John's face.

"Why do these things happen to him, Elizabeth? He's only just come back and _this…_" Rodney's voice cracked slightly. "Maybe we should have left him where he was. John was happy there – safe."

"If he'd still been the man Carson found on the planet, he would never have worked out this plan. Whether Jolin knew it or not, John Sheppard has been finding his way back for a while now." She raked her hand through her hair, and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I really believe the pull to Atlantis was so strong even if Carson hadn't discovered him, John would have eventually made his own way back."

Rodney gently took her arm and turned her round to her face him. "Do you really believe that?"

Elizabeth considered her instinctive response for a moment, and nodded. "Yes…I do."

ooooOoooo

Sights and sounds, wonders Libero could scarcely have imagined assaulted her senses as she made her first tentative steps into Atlantis, yet she wasn't frightened. The only thing that scared her was the thought she would never see Jolin alive again.

His name was John…she needed to remember that. Jolin was a teacher. John had left that person behind the first time he'd returned for treatment. This time he'd returned to his real home – Atlantis. It was vast, and so advanced Libero wondered what Jolin must now think of the simple life he'd shared with her. She wasn't ashamed of it. The village was her whole world and she cared for the people there. Yet compared to all this, it paled into insignificance.

She felt Teyla's arm around her as they followed behind the strange but effective cart holding the most precious thing in her life. People stopped and stood aside as they passed, concern written on their faces. There was something else too, a fondness. It was then Libero realised how much John Sheppard was loved.

She'd lost her wits, shocked at the sight of all John's blood but they were returning. When he was rushed away to a room out of her sight, she grabbed Teyla's sleeve. "Where are they taking him?"

"Carson will take good care of him, Libero. Now we must make sure you are alright -"

Libero stopped dead. She didn't like being humoured, but as she realised the young woman was just trying to be kind, she took a deep breath and tried to keep the annoyance out her voice. "I appreciate your concern, Teyla, but I am fine. I want to know where they are taking him."

Teyla released the grip on her shoulders and stood back. She looked hurt. "I imagine Carson will be preparing him for surgery."

"Then I want to see him." Libero persisted.

Both Teyla and Rodney looked hesitant, but the woman called Elizabeth came forward. "I understand – give me a moment."

They were standing at the edge of a long room containing many beds. All were full with wounded men, and Libero recognised the one called Lorne sleeping peacefully with a neat dressing on his forehead. Men and women were tending to the injured, and Libero was impressed with how clean and bright the place was. It was a far cry from the old wooden table in her cramped kitchen. The place where she'd treated Jolin when he'd first arrived at her home.

Puzzled faces were looking in their direction, but a moment later Elizabeth arrived with one she recognised. The lady doctor she'd met when they'd taken the children for their vaccinations.

The young doctor smiled at her. "It's nice to see you again, I'm just sorry it's under these circumstances." Carol's gaze took in the whole group. "Carson has asked for the three of you to go for your post mission check up. He'd like you to get checked out too, Libero, but he understands you need to see _Col_ – John first, so please come with me."

In the short time since they'd arrived back she was surprised to see John stripped, cleaned, and lying on a narrow bed surrounded by machines. His dressing had been replaced by a new one, but she was concerned to see fresh blood seeping though. There were bags with clear and red fluid attached to long tubes flowing into needles stuck into the back of each hand. A clear mask partly obscured his face. Only a thin white sheet was covering his modesty. She longed to touch him, hold his hand, but the healer in her knew to let Carson do his job. The time for comfort would come later, when he was mending.

"They are replacing the blood and fluids he lost before they take him into surgery." Carol explained what Libero had already guessed. "This will take a while, maybe even a couple of hours to make sure his vitals are stable. When he is ready you can watch the surgery from the observation room if you wish. In the meantime please let me check you over. I know John would want that."

Libero nodded, and allowed herself to be led away to a separate area where Rodney, Elizabeth and Teyla were sitting on narrow beds. Elizabeth and Teyla looked exhausted, and Libero suddenly realised what an ordeal the two women had been through. The noisy man Rodney, was unusually quiet. In fact no one spoke, except to answer the questions from the doctors.

Carol helped make her comfortable and talked quietly, reassuringly, during the whole exam. "I hope I'm as fit as you at your age," she smiled, "but you've had a bad shock so I'd like you to rest for a while. I'll arrange for some food to be brought on a tray."

Libero was going to object, but she was tired. It was also a long time since she'd eaten. Jolin…John was going to need her when he awoke, so she needed to keep her strength up.

"Thank you…and I would like to watch the surgery if I may."

Rodney grumbled at the woman who had been treating him, but waved at Libero as he walked away. Teyla strolled over and gave her a hug, before she too left the room.

Elizabeth came and stood by her bed. She was a good looking woman, although her fine features were strained, and her face was devoid of colour. Libero knew John had worked closely with both women and wondered why he'd never married. Even as the question came to mind she was only too aware if John did survive, it was one he would never answer.

"I never had a chance to welcome you to Atlantis, Libero, or thank your for everything you did for John." Her eyes misted over, and Elizabeth took a deep breath. "When he comes out of surgery I hope you'll stay for a while. I know John would like that…and so would I."

"Then I will…and thank you." Libero could see the woman was worried and took her hand. "John will recover…I am sure of it."

Even as the words were spoken all her doubts melted away. John was going to get through this. Just as he'd survived the horrendous injuries he'd sustained that led him to her door all those months ago. The knowledge gave her peace, and she smiled.

Elizabeth returned it. "Well then, I have some calls to make. See what I can do about getting him his job back."

"May the Ancestors go with you, child, and give you success in your task." Libero gave the smooth hand a squeeze and let it go.

"From your mouth to the IOA's ears." Elizabeth muttered as she gave Libero a wry smile and she too went away.

Libero didn't know who the IOA was, but she guessed they must be like the council in her village. They could be stubborn on occasions, so she wished the pretty dark haired woman extra luck.

Left alone the room was now blissfully quiet, and Libero settled back against the soft, plump pillows. A woman with blond hair and a warm expression came with a tray filled with some broth, a warm drink and a muffin. She laid it in front of her as if Libero were an honoured guest, and pulled up a blanket tucking it around her waist.

Libero smiled at her, but asked if she would take the muffin away. It looked good, and it probably tasted delicious but she couldn't face the confection. Tears sprang to her eyes at the plan that had gone so badly wrong. She was still quietly sobbing when exhaustion took her, and she fell asleep.

ooooOoooo

Carson tied off the last suture and stepped back from the table. He scanned the machines and satisfied with the results, waved up at the women sitting in the gallery. Libero and Teyla smiled down, gave each other a hug, and moved away. They looked tired and Carson hoped they could now get some rest.

He was shattered, but bedtime was a distant dream. John had come through the surgery well. His shoulder was fractured, but hopefully immobilising the clavicle would do the job without surgical intervention. The bullet made quite a mess of his insides, but thankfully missed anything vital. He'd repaired the torn flesh and muscles but while John was still under, he wanted to look at his leg.

Carson nodded to Jennifer Keller. She was new here, and had come with a first class resume. All of the medical staff were chosen by him, but this was the first time they'd worked together. He was impressed by her surgical skills. "How's his pressure, Jennifer?"

He knew the monitors worked perfectly well, but in many respects he was old school. Carson couldn't see past the human touch.

Her eyes twinkled above the mask, and he knew she'd sussed him out. "If you want to look at his leg then go ahead. He's doing fine."

Carson shook his head and couldn't suppress a smile. He thought of Carol bringing his fishing gear on the planet, and now even his newest member guessed what he'd been planning. Was he really that much of an open book?

The abrasions on John's leg had been cleaned up, but the gash was deep enough to warrant stitches. Right now however he nodded to Marie who handed him the scope.

Ancient tech was wonderful, brilliant in fact, but nothing beat what he could feel with his fingers and see with his own eyes. One small incision later and what he discovered made his heart a little lighter.

"Well? How does it look, Carson?"

Jennifer's voice grabbed his attention, and Carson looked up surprised. He'd been so absorbed in his own thoughts, he'd forgotten others were there.

"It's good news for once." He responded. "Whatever caused this new damage has done the colonel a favour, the jolt has dislodged the piece of metal. It turns out it wasn't embedded in the bone after all, it had just slipped between the cracked edges during the initial injury giving that appearance. By the looks of things all we need do is remove the metal, re-set the bones and with luck, the leg will be as good as new." Carson glanced down at the sleeping man. "But he's been through enough today so I'll hold off until he's a little stronger."

"Would you like me to finish off, Carson? If you don't mind me saying you look beat."

Carson didn't leave his position, and slowly started to remove the slim metal probe from John's leg. "Aye...I am tired, lass, but I'd like to finish this myself. Thanks anyway." Jennifer nodded pulled off her mask, but as she started to move away Carson stopped her. "You did a fine job here today – I'm glad to have you on board."

She smiled, and it lit up the room. Jennifer was a pretty thing but not really his type. Carol though…Carson pushed the thought aside as there was still work to do, but he wondered how she felt about single malt?

It was over an hour later by the time John was settled in the ICU. Everything was looking good, but Carson didn't like leaving anything to chance. He only spent as much time as it took to get a shower, change into fresh clothes and grab a bite to eat. His bed shouted out to him but he resisted the call. He was tired, bloody exhausted, but sleep could wait.

John was the only patient in the ICU and apart from the low hum of machines, the unit was quiet. The lighting was dim but when Carson's eyes adjusted to the gloom he saw Libero sitting by the bed. Her head was slumped, but as he approached the old woman peered up. She looked worn out.

"I hoped you'd be in your bed by now." He stood shaking his head, watching the flush rise in her face.

"I just…I just wanted to be here when he woke up." Libero glanced at John then back at him. Carson didn't have the heart to send her away.

He came over and spoke softly in her ear. "I tell you what. Why don't you curl up in that bed," Carson motioned to the empty bed next to John, "and I'll take the chair? That way we can both keep him company."

Libero hesitated, but didn't put up any resistance when he put out a hand to help her up. He led her over and by the time the old woman's head hit the pillow, he was pleased to see she was nearly asleep.

As he pulled up the covers her eyes flashed open. "You're a good man, Carson Beckett – your mother must be a proud woman."

Now it was his turn to blush, but the kind remark made him smile. His mother was proud, but she was proud of all of her children. Carson missed her terribly but in many ways Libero was quite like her. He sat by his friend and looked at the pale face under the mask. John Sheppard was a good man, gregarious in many ways but quiet about his private life. One thing he did know about John was that he had lost his mother to cancer when he was only young. Carson was glad there was now someone to fill the void.

ooooOoooo

TBC

Well I couldn't kill off our favourite colonel - not after bringing him home!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please review.


	14. Chapter 14

THE PATH NOT TAKEN

CHAPTER 14

He was confused.

The last thing John could remember was going to join his friends, but the familiar smells and sounds told him he was in the infirmary. What the hell had happened?

His leg was throbbing, but that particular pain had been a constant companion for a while now. The sharp, raw ache in his shoulder and back was something new. The incessant dull pain notching up to full blown agony, as the heavy weight pressing down on his chest threatened to take his breath away. "Gah…Nnnnghnn."

"Easy, John. Carson is coming."

The calloused hand took his and he grabbed hold, just like he'd done the first time they'd met. He was in misery, but prised open his eyes to see the woman by his bed – Libero. She smiled at him. It was a watery smile, her expression full of relief as she swept away the hair sticking to his face.

"Welcome back, Colonel." Carson appeared in his line of vision and Libero patted his hand before relinquishing him to the medic.

"Wha…what happened?" John croaked before wincing and moaning.

Carson sat down on the recently vacated chair, so he could make eye contact without John having to move his head. "A drink first, you must be thirsty."

He was. With the rest of his combined aches the rough dry throat came way down the list. The cold water tasted damn good as it extinguished the flames.

The Scot gently took the straw from his lips, and put the glass on the cabinet. He prepared a syringe while he started to talk. "The leader of the rebels put a bullet in your back as a _reward_ for your interference." Carson turned round and gave the old lady standing off to the side a smile. "If it wasn't for Libero, you would have bled out before I had a chance to repair the damage. You owe her your life."

John nodded and locked eyes with the woman who'd been his salvation not once, but twice. Libero had saved his life. More than that she'd also saved his sanity, when he'd arrived on her doorstep blind, injured and had lost all sense of who he was.

He was home, John knew that now. Except in returning to Atlantis he would be leaving behind something priceless, something he never thought he would find again - a mother's love. Libero cared for him. Her love was unconditional regardless of what his did. She accepted him for who he was, and didn't try to change him. His memory of his own mom was still patchy at best, but he reckoned that lady would be happy he'd found someone who cared for him. A woman who treated him as if he were her own.

John felt rather than saw Carson inject the contents of the syringe into his IV, the icy tingle seeping through his veins immediately getting to work, dousing the fire, and starting to mute the pain coursing through his body.

His eyelids grew heavy and with his fuzzy brain, even trying to form the words was hard. John clenched his fists struggling to stay awake. He wanted desperately to sleep but couldn't rest. Not until he found out what he needed to know. "Ro…nnn?"

"He's going to be fine. In fact he's better than you at the moment. Once I'm happy you're not going to give me any surprises, you can buddy up in the ward." Carson told him as he checked the machines around the bed.

"Lorne?"

"He has a minor concussion. We kept him in for observation, but he's been released to rest in his quarters." The doctor stopped what he was doing, and sat back down again. "Look, John, everyone is on the mend – it's you we need to get back on your feet. This has been a setback. The bullet fractured your shoulder and your left arm is going to be immobilised for quite a while. We got lucky in so much as it didn't hit anything vital, but you lost a helluva lot of blood. The bottom line, you need to regain your strength before I even consider working on your leg." He gave John's arm a pat. "The good news is I think we'll be able to give you full mobility back…but it's still going to be a long haul, son."

John contemplated what Carson had just told him, and swallowed. "I'm alive…that's good enough for now."

"Aye you are, thank God." Carson smiled, and rose to his feet. "Now get some rest. There are a lot of folks desperate to see you, but they can wait for a wee bit longer."

"Thns…Carsn." John mumbled. As his eyes closed he felt the familiar touch as the gnarled hand took his. It was warm and reassuring. There was a smile on his lips as he went to sleep.

ooooOoooo

Survival had come at a price. He hurt like hell, and even muted by good drugs John knew he was going to be miserable for the duration. There was also the _small _matter of another surgery to come. Libero, Teyla and Rodney had all been frequent visitors, but he'd been pretty out of it. When they left, he only had his pain for company. He was relieved when after a couple of days he was transferred from the ICU into the main ward beside his friend.

Doped and in pain both men weren't really fit for long conversations, but John was worried. He knew Ronon wasn't inclined to say more than a few words at the best of times, but the big guy was never this quiet. He barely looked at him. When he did, John saw guilt written on his face before he turned away feigning sleep. He wondered what the hell was wrong.

When his friends came to visit John pushed his pain aside and gave them a smile. "So I hear someone didn't have a sweet tooth?"

Without asking, Rodney grabbed the chair next to his bed. Teyla came over touched her brow gently on his, then took the seat next to Ronon. The Satedan was sitting back perched on a mound of pillows, and John was happy to see he seemed to be on the mend.

Rodney leaned forward in the chair and grabbed the uneaten desert from John's tray. "I _know_ – weird huh? Not liking muffins, that's just not normal." Rodney took John's leftover orange juice, and gulped it down. He choked on it, and when he started speaking again his voice had a high strangled sound. "If there was proof he was seriously deranged, that was it."

Ronon's face clouded over. "I'm sorry."

Teyla turned to her team mate looking confused. "I do not understand, Ronon. What do you have to be sorry about?"

Ronon balled his hands into fists and slammed them on the bed, causing him to flinch. "I should have seen it coming…I was taken down like a damn rookie. You guys got taken, and Sheppard nearly got killed cleaning up my mess."

"It was not your fault, Ronon." Teyla told him in a quiet but firm voice. "They had the element of surprise and when Lorne was attacked, we had very little time to react. It was you who killed two of their men. "

"Still my fault." Ronon mumbled, squirming down the bed.

John wanted to go over and give his friend a few home truths, but he could barely move. He gritted his teeth as he turned round in bed, so he could catch his eye. "Look, Ronon, you're a tough guy but you're not Superman and…in a weird, warped sort of way there is a silver lining to this."

"Oh, _yeah._ How do you figure that out?" Ronon's gruff voice had a cynical edge to it.

"When I saw you lying there, wounded, I knew I had to do something. I'm sorry you got hurt, buddy, but if you'd saved the day, then I wouldn't have had to." John paused for a moment, and licked his dry lips. His voice cracked as his looked at his friends. "What happened to you made me realise what you guys, and this place mean to me. It forced me to man up and remember who I really am."

There was silence for a moment before Ronon asked the question John had been expecting. "So you're coming back?"

John flushed red. "Yeah…I supposed I am – if they let me. I'm not commander here anymore, but when I eventually heal I hope they'll let me stay in some capacity." He smiled. "If not, I suppose I still have my teaching job."

"If they don't take you back then they are fools." Libero's voice filtered into the room as she entered the ward with Elizabeth by her side.

The old woman came over and stood by his bed. "Teaching the young is important, but this is the life you were meant for. This is a wonderful city, John, and over the last few days the more I've seen, the more I've heard – the people here need you. I always knew you were a fine man, but here is the place where you really make a difference. Still…I won't deny I'm going to miss you."

John was going to miss Libero too, but didn't want to think about that now.

He raised an eyebrow, and his lips twisted. "If you think you're going to get rid of me that easily, you're delusional." John was feeling emotional but was glad he managed to keep his voice steady. "I'll come visit whenever I can. When I can't, I'll send someone to keep an eye on you."

Libero's expression turned indigent, and she gently nudged Elizabeth. "Do you hear that? Look here young man, I don't need looking after. Besides, I'll have you know Massin has been calling by since you left."

"That creepy old man?" John knew the guy. Everyone in the village was nice, but the way the old carpenter stared at Libero, made his skin crawl. He couldn't contain his irritation and felt his blood pressure start to rise. "Tell him from me to back off. If I hear he's been bothering you -"

The old lady's face broke into a smile. "Relax, my boy – he never got in the door. I only have one man in my life…you."

When he saw all his friends smiling, his face grew scarlet. He was saved any more embarrassment by Elizabeth.

"The new coalition in Suvang is calling you a hero, John, and that's what I've told the SGC and the IOA." Elizabeth stood with her hands on her hips, and used the tone John remembered when she was getting ready for a fight. "Lt Colonel John Sheppard belongs here and I need a military commander I can work with. So… I'm going to knock on every door, break them down if I have to - until I get the answer I want. You're coming back. _I'll_ make sure of it."

ooooOoooo

Broken bones hurt like crazy. They didn't feel much better when they were mending either. So despite Carson's optimistic prognosis, there were days John felt too wretched to care. He did of course. It was a relief knowing he would at the very least regain flight status, even if his future in Atlantis was still in question.

Caldwell returned during the first week of his rehab and the fleeting glimpse John saw of him, he wasn't a happy man. Libero returned home the same day and while they'd been saying goodbye, Elizabeth's slamming door grabbed their attention. The atmosphere was tense, almost electric in the 'gate room, as the two leaders broke into a thinly veiled argument.

Elizabeth looked stained, but determined. Caldwell just looked pissed. He could remember snapshots of run-ins he'd had with the stony-faced colonel, but John respected the guy. None of this was Caldwell's fault. It wasn't his either. John felt a little guilty as he knew he was the cause of their row, but all he could do was sit on the sidelines and wait until his future was decided by bureaucrats he'd never met.

As time passed his memories gradually returned. Some were good – others not so much. Mission reports filled in the blanks and for a while Carson prescribed sleeping pills to help him deal with the nightmares.

On the day of Kammel's wedding John was able to stand by his side. The crutches pulled on his shoulder but it felt good to be on his feet, even if it was just for the ceremony. The blacksmith looked nervous, his eyes darting anxiously to the door whenever someone came in. When Arell appeared in the small chapel only then did his big friend relax. They looked happy, and when John handed over the rings he thought of Nancy and his own wedding. He'd loved her, but theirs had been doomed to failure almost from the moment she'd agreed to be his wife.

Unlike this simple but moving affair, theirs had been a circus. He had wanted just the two of them, with family and maybe a few friends. In the end to try and make peace with his dad, over six hundred of his father's _close_ friends had attended the social event of the year. Neither of them had really enjoyed the orchestrated event, but just like the remainder of their marriage, their parents did their damnedest to interfere. Yet John couldn't relinquish responsibility for its ultimate demise. It was him who screwed it up. Too much time away from home. Too many secrets, missions he couldn't discuss left Nancy suspicious and disconnected. He'd put his job first and it had killed his marriage. The sad thing was, given a second chance, he would probably do the same thing again.

His team along with Carson and Carol attended the celebration that followed. The doc and his girl looked happy, and John was glad to see all the people he cared about enjoying themselves. Only Elizabeth was missing. She looked strained as she'd left to attend yet another meeting in Washington. He wished she could have been there, as the break from routine would have done her good.

It felt good being back in the village again, but while John felt a strong connection there, it could never again be his home. Atlantis was where he wanted to be - although he missed Libero. Caldwell might have his job but John was prepared to do anything, even if it meant a demotion to stay. He just hoped he got the chance…

EPILOGUE

"Something smells good. Do you have enough to share?" John stood in the door way of the kitchen.

"John!" Libero came over and gave him a hug. "I wasn't expecting you until next week." The old lady broke away and took her time looking him up and down. "You're back in uniform…but where's your cane?"

John chewed his lip. "I don't need it anymore."

Libero narrowed her eyes and stared at him. The woman was like a human lie detector and John squirmed. "Okay, I left it in the jumper, but it's really not necessary, my leg's fine now."

The stare continued and he knew it was pointless lying. "Okay…so it aches a bit - but only a little. Anyway, I'm back on light duty now, hopefully back to active duty in a couple of weeks, which is why I wanted to see you." He put his hands gently on her shoulders. "I've got my old job back."

"That's wonderful!" The old lady beamed.

John smiled. "Yeah, it is. Elizabeth pulled a lot of strings, but I think it was the Suvang coalition that swung it," he told her. "It turned out they have a large mine containing something my people at home badly need – naquada – but they would only deal with me. To be honest I still didn't think it would happen, but the guy who replaced me didn't protest as much as I thought he would…I think he missed his old job. Still, I feel a little sorry for Caldwell as he didn't have a choice in the end. The powers that be made the decision to reinstate me so…I'm staying in Atlantis."

"Well that is cause for celebration." Libero moved away and took a bottle of mead off the shelve along with two glasses. Before she could pour it out, John forestalled her.

"I want you to come and live with me." John smiled as he took her hand. "You would have your own room, but if you didn't want to stay in the city Teyla said you could live with her people on the mainland." At her surprised expression he continued. "Look, I know you don't need looking after, but you're family and Libero…I'd really like to have you close by."

The old lady slumped down on a chair, poured out a glass of the mead and downed it in one. "Well…that's something I didn't expect." She looked at him sheepishly, before pouring another glass.

"Please say yes." John said quietly, feeling suddenly nervous.

She reached over and took his hand. "Nothing would make me happier, and it has filled my heart with joy just to hear your offer, but…I can't. My place is here with my people, just as your place is with yours. I am no Carson Beckett but I am their healer. Without me, they would have no one to care for them."

"I understand…" John's heart sank. He felt like he'd been gut punched, but deep down he knew Libero was right. They each had a role to fulfil, an obligation to the people they cared for. It wouldn't be right to take her from the village.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, only broken when Libero poured him a glass of mead. "Here's to our people." She raised her glass.

John clinked the rim of her glass with his own and took a gulp. He then raised his own. "And here's to my second home." He smiled at her.

A knock at the door made them turn round. Rodney was standing there, looking edgy.

"Rodney – come in. Share a glass of mead with us to celebrate John's good fortune." Libero went to get another glass, but Rodney shook his head.

"Good fortune?" The scientist's looked puzzled, then his eyes grew wide. "Oh, I get it… You're talking about Sheppard getting his job back." He stood back on his heels and folded his arms. The scientist wore a smug smile on his face. "Of course, you do realise that was partly down to me."

John raised an eyebrow and gave him a sardonic look. "It was? I though it was because of _my_ brilliant plan that saved the leaders on Suvang. Not forgetting all the strings Elizabeth's pulled."

"The brilliant plan that nearly got you killed -"

"_Rodney…_" John shot him a warning glare. He knew his buddy didn't mean it, but his careless remark had caused the colour to drain from Libero's face.

Rodney went scarlet. "_Sorry_…" His face twisted, but his discomfiture didn't last long as he started to bluster. "Well of course you both had _something _to do with it, but the real reason why Caldwell agreed to leave so easily was to get away from me." He whispered to Libero in a conspiratorial tone. "I think I was finally getting to him."

"Oh, yeah…that I _can_ believe." Incredulous, John winked at Libero.

John rose to his feet. "We have a visit to make to the school, but we'll be back to say good bye before we leave." He told Libero.

"Don't think you're leaving without having some dinner. I've made stew – your favourite." Libero told him in a manner that brooked no argument. "There's plenty, enough for all of us." She glanced at the scientist who was looking a little uncomfortable. "That means you too, Rodney."

"Are you sure? I mean…I don't mind if you want Sheppard to yourself." Rodney shuffled his feet on the floor, and John suppressed a smile. The great Rodney McKay looked unsure of himself, but John could see he was happy at being asked.

John slapped him on the back, and Rodney jumped forward. "Of course you're coming. After teaching a bunch of kids, I reckon you'll have worked up quite an appetite."

Rodney's face fell. "You never said anything about teaching." He glowered at him and John knew his buddy was trying to work out if he was kidding.

"All you said was '_come with me when I go and see the kids, Rodney,_ '" McKay said in a high pitched squeaky voice trying to mimic him. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and his mouth twisted. "I don't even like kids."

When they both drew him a look, he stuttered. "Don't look at me like that! Its not that I don't _like_ them, I've just never felt comfortable around kids…even when I was one." He let out a long sigh, and his lazy eye started to twitch. "It's just that they're so _unpredictable_. You never know what they're going say and some of it…"

"Can really put you on the spot," John interrupted in an amused voice. "That's what kids do, Rodney. Anyway, it's not really like teaching. It's a game with numbers. Similar to prime not prime – and you can play your part sitting at the back of the class…beside Garmend. I'd like you to meet him."

"That kid who reminded you of me? Oh, _come _on, Sheppard, you've got to be kidding me!"

"He's a good kid and he's smart, really bright." John looked at his team mate with regret. "I kinda thought you might want to take an interest. A brilliant guy like you could really make a difference in his life."

"Wait a minute…I know what you're doing – you're playing me!" Rodney snapped his head back, and glared at him.

"Fine." John shrugged. He put on his best disappointed expression, and sighed deeply. "If that's the way you feel I'll go by myself. You can wait for me here."

Rodney's face grew redder, and he folded his arms. "Okay…I'll meet him – but I'm not promising anything." He glared at John through hooded eyes. "You're a real piece of work, Sheppard. Do you know that?"

The expression on Rodney's face was comical, but John didn't feel the least bit guilty. It was good being back to normal, and snarking with Rodney had always been part of his life since they'd met. That's what they did. It was their thing to take a rise out of each other, just like he always complained when Ronon beat him on their morning run, which he hoped to start again soon. As for Teyla, John reckoned he would never match her skill with the bantos sticks, no matter how much he practiced.

He would continue to challenge Elizabeth - if he felt she was wrong. She would expect it. It was what made their partnership strong. They each considered the other's point of view then make the best decision, for their people, Atlantis. When John learned he'd once defied her orders and put others at risk, he was ashamed. He didn't remember the incident, it was one of so many memories still lost in the void. Like pieces of a jigsaw they were gradually fitting into place, and what he'd forgotten, close friends and mission reports filled in the gaps.

As he walked into the classroom the children rushed towards him, calling his name – _Jolin - _but he didn't correct them. In this place he'd been another man, and John felt lucky to have had the change to walk a different path. Of course, he wasn't naïve. John and Jolin were different sides of the same coin, and the only thing to really separate them was circumstances and opportunity.

Circumstances had taken him to Antarctica, and it had been Elizabeth who'd given him an opportunity to change his life. On that grassy mound in San Francisco John had taken his coin and flipped it until it gave him the right result – go to Atlantis.

Jolin too had also made the best of the hand he'd been dealt. He'd accepted his memory loss and disability as something he would have to live with, and regardless of the obstacles, he'd built a good life for himself.

Sometimes it was a life he missed. The slower pace was at odds with his life in Atlantis. Yet despite the hectic days and nights disrupted with memories he wished he'd forgotten, John knew he was where he was supposed to be. It was his destiny, and he would follow the path where ever it would lead. Today, he would be the teacher one last time.

"Okay kids, say hello to Dr McKay. He's going to help us with our game." He nodded to Rodney at the back of the room, and almost as one the small curious faces followed his gaze.

"Hello…d.o.c.t.o.r -"

"_Just_…just call me Rodney." Rodney blurted out, and threw John a scathing look.

John suppressed a smile. His buddy was well and truly out of his comfort zone, and looked like he was going to puke. John started to feel a little sorry - but only a little. He wanted to share his old life with his friends, and had genuinely believed Rodney would enjoy the experience. He hoped he wasn't wrong.

"Okay…Rodney. How about you and Garmen take on the rest of the class?" John didn't wait for an answer and the game commenced.

As the other kids grabbed John's attention, Garmen dug an elbow in Rodney's ribs.

"Ow…what did you do that for?" Rodney rubbed his side and glared at the young boy.

Garmen ignored the scientists black look, and whispered in his ear. "How does he get his hair like that?"

Rodney watched John's spiky hair bob up and down as he wrote on the blackboard. A smile grew on his face. "It's one of the mysteries of the universe, kid. But you like him, don't, you?"

Garmen nodded vigorously. "Oh yes, sir, I do. I really missed him when he went away."

Rodney met the intense blue eyes, and he looked over at his friend who smiled. "So did I, kid…so did I. Now what say we show the others how this game should really be played…"

The End.

Well that's the end of the tale and I hope you enjoyed it!

I want to thank all of you for reading, and a special thanks to those who reviewed. I am really thrilled at the response to this story - your support and encouragement mean a lot. And please let me know how you enjoyed the chapter.

I'd also like to thank the birthday girl **Libero** for letting me use her name! And of course a special thanks goes to my fabulous beta and friend, **Sterenyk Strey** for all her help. You're a star pet.

Finally, I'd like to wish all of you a very merry Christmas, and a healthy, happy New Year for 2012!


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